Arc's Point
by SoulReductor79
Summary: Daedalus is a Ravenclaw in his 5th year at Hogwart's. Christmas holidays bring big changes and the mysteries are just getting started. What's up with his mum? Will they move to Canada? Why does he wear those glasses? A coming of age story, wizarding style
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The Magical world as portrayed in the 'Harry Potter' books belongs to JK Rowling (and publisher's, warner bros. et.al), as do some of the character's, places, spells etc. that are mentioned in this story. Many of the character's, places etc., are my own creations but I'm simply working off of JK's brilliance, which I certainly cannot match. Okay, don't sue me I have no money.

A Brief Explanation: This is the first fiction of any kind that I've written. A friend advised me to explain a bit before I start, so…This story begins on Christmas break of Harry's 5th year..ie: OOTP. You'd figure it out but I'll mention that I invented a character and placed him in Harry's year. I can hear many people out there screaming blasphemy, and I understand that. I picked a letter for a last name which 'in theory' just might not have been heard being sorted in 'Philosopher's Stone.' (I do realize that Jo knows every student in Harry's year, I'm just asking for a slight suspension of disbelief.) Also he's in Ravenclaw, so no wonder we've never seen him. At any rate you'll realize at the end of this chapter that the story is going somewhere, and hopefully I'll be allowed my little bit of blasphemous freedom. I think that's all I need to say, I hope you enjoy. Oh yeah…my character's name is kind of weird, but that'll be explained and dealt with in the next chapter so just bear with me…this is the introductory chapter. I knew if I put an explanation in hear I'd ramble on and start to be self-depricating. OK…I'm done.

CHAPTER 1: Surprises

Plymouth is a city on the southern coast of England where you can find many things from stunning ocean views, to fine dining, nautical supplies, much of the British Navy, and, if you know where to look, wizards. There are a few wizarding families living in and around Plymouth including the family Indree who are the focus of this story.

Daedalus Jamison Indree was standing alone in a rather crowded King's Cross station having just returned through the barrier from platform nine and three quarters to find his mother nowhere in sight. She hadn't been waiting on the platform with the other parent's either. The crowd bustled around him carrying Christmas bundles, chattering loudly, and all looking rather strained. He wondered if she might have forgotten that he was coming home from Hogwart's for Christmas. He couldn't think why she would forget, seeing as how he always came home for the holidays. Except of course for last year when the Tri-Wizard tournament took place and he had stayed at school. His mother had insisted he do so. Her reasoning was that it would be an ideal time to make new friends or perhaps even find a girlfriend. He ended up finding neither, although he had talked to a few of the Beauxbatons students including a fair skinned boy named Etienne with whom he seemed to share some common interests. Yes, this time she knew he was coming home.

It was now more than an hour after his arrival in King's Cross and Daedalus was growing tired of waiting. Not to mention tired of the strained holiday traveler's who kept bumping into him. Quite happy that he had only packed a travel bag and not his whole trunk he decided to head to the Leaky Cauldron and travel home via floo powder. He took the underground to The Leaky Cauldron which did nothing to keep him from being bumped around by people. At one point the car was so crowded that he was jammed against the wall and a portly man holding four large packages had the nerve to tell him to make space. Daedalus supposed this is why the Statute of Secrecy was invented, to prevent wizards from turning impatient muggles into Christmas decorations, as he was strongly thinking of doing.

As Daedalus entered The Leaky Cauldron Tom, the wizened and stooping barman greeted him while wiping a nearby table. 'How are you today?' He asked offering Daedalus a seat at the table he had just been wiping. 'Where's your mother?' he said, smiling toothlessly.

'I'm not sure actually, she wasn't there to pick me up from the train.' Daedalus shrugged his shoulders and caught his face in the mirror behind the bar. He was looking pale; he always looked that way, as though he were recently getting over the flu. He had a thin face, rather full lips (which relatives praised as his great feature), and deep blue eyes that were hidden behind a pair of glasses that curved round and covered his peripheral vision. These glasses were known as 'all-covers' because they wrapped around the eyes almost to the temples. They were invented originally as an aid for Auror's who had lost some parts of their vision in the line of duty. The lenses in Daedalus' glasses served a different function, though most wizards assumed he must have been hit by a bad conjunctivitis curse. Indeed that was the story his mother told. He watched himself scratch his short, cosmically dark hair in the mirror before turning back to Tom.

'I don't suppose you've seen her today?' he asked.

Tom smiled again and shook his head. 'I'm afraid not lad. Perhaps she's gone in to the ministry?'

Daedalus smiled slightly. 'Yes, that's probably it. She always gets called in. It would have been nice if she could have let me know though,' he shrugged his shoulders for the second time and decided to have some soup before traveling home again.

After his delicious onion soup Tom gave Daedalus a pinch of floo powder to use for the trip which he flat out refused to accept payment for. Daedalus smiled and thanked Tom, threw the powder into the fire place where it burst into sparkling green flames. He stepped inside the fire and said clearly: 'Number 33B, Hartley Road, Plymouth'.

It became clear as he stepped out of the fireplace that his mother was not at home. The living room was empty and none of the lamps were lit. The wizarding wireless wasn't on. If his mother were home the wireless would most definitely be on. She listened to it incessantly and much to Daedalus' annoyance. On occasion The Weird Sister's were played which lessened his annoyance a little, but only a little.

Daedalus and his mother Romalda had been living in Plymouth since Daedalus' father had died in a car accident ten years prior. Up to that point they had been residing in Liverpool in a house that the company his father worked for provided. Daedelus' father Fred Indree was a muggle, who was originally from Canada but had moved the UK for his work as a bank executive. According to his mother, she had met Fred, or Frederick, after he accidentally knocked her over while in London for meetings. His mother had been on her way home from visiting a friend in St. Mungo's when she turned a corner and ran into a large, solid man who proceeded to apologize profusely. This incident began a conversation which was continued on to a lunch, then to two years of dating and then, to marriage. She had told Fred she was a witch early on, though he didn't believe her at first. It wasn't until she became frustrated by his lack of belief and vanished his clothes right off him one night that belief sunk in. He didn't seem to mind, though they decided on separate wedding ceremonies, and he insisted that when their children were born they should be raised to know muggle life as well, especially in case they turned out to not be wizards. Up to his father's death Daedalus' had lived as balanced a life as one such as he could possibly hope to. He went to Liverpool football matches with his dad as well as the occasional Quidditch match, typically featuring Puddlemere United, and he took gymnastics lessons at the muggle community center. But life happens, and things changed. His father died, and his mother and he moved to Plymouth, into a flat above a no longer open Nautical supply store called Patch N' Peg's. It was here that they had lived for the past ten years, and it was here in the kitchen, where Daedalus sat at the table wondering why his mother hadn't picked him up at King's Cross.

How he had fallen asleep, or for how long he wasn't sure but he was awoken by the sound of the door opening and the familiar clunking noise of his mother dropping her green dragon skin briefcase. He had been having the strangest dream. His father had been in it, he was mouthing soundlessly while pointing a wand at Daedalus' mother who seemed extremely angry, brandishing her own wand. They seemed to be floating in the air above the Hogwart's Quidditch pitch, and Dumbledore was there, or was it just some other old wizard in half-moon spectacles. The recollection of the dream faded as he shook off his drowsiness.

As his mother entered the dark kitchen wearing a thick wool travel cloak and scarf, she flicked her wand to light the lamps and pulled off her scarf looking rather ruffled. The kitchen was one of the smaller rooms in the flat though it was one of the nicer ones. His mother had put a lot of work into their home over the years and was quite proud to show it off to the various wizards and witches who made visits. The kitchen featured marble countertops, glass fronted oak cabinets with a sink that featured elaborate silver fixtures beneath a bright window. In the corner was a round wooden four seated mahogany table, where Daedalus was still sitting trying to pretend he wasn't groggy.

'Hi mum,' he managed to stammer, then gave his head a good shake and blinked the sleep out of his eyes.

'Aren't you going to ask why I didn't pick you up today?' She asked in an agitated voice. She was looking agitated too, Daedalus thought. She usually wore her auburn hair drawn up into a bun but it seemed to have dropped out in places. There also seemed to be a fair amount of dirt on her, and he noticed that there were some small scratches on her hand. Daedalus often overheard people refer to his mother as being very pretty. He supposed he agreed, though a son never likes to think of their own mother in such a way. He did acknowledge that she had a stately heir, one of confidence and grace. Wondering why he hadn't inherited these qualities he responded to her question.

'Well, I wondered,' he managed to say before she cut across him.

'Oh, of course you wondered. You do lots of wondering don't you? You should try doing instead of wondering and reading books sometime. It would make for a nice change!'

His eyebrows rose instantly at this behavior. His mother didn't usually snap at him like this, at least not without provocation.

'Er … Mum … is something the matter?'

She gave him a look that plainly told him he'd asked a stupid question. He knew the answer was obvious but she didn't seem like she was going to volunteer any information.

'Yes! Obviously!' After these words she seemed to realize that she was taking her frustration out on an innocent person. She took a deep breath and attempted to master herself. 'I'm sorry dear, forgive me. It hasn't been a pleasant day.'

'S'alright. Do you want some tea? Do you want to talk about it?' He attempted a friendly smile after these words, which was difficult as he was still a bit flustered by her immediate verbal assault.

She returned the smile and sat down rubbing her hands over her face as she did so. She reached back and untied her hair so that the rest of it fell out of the bun and landed just below her shoulders. Healing the cuts on her hand with her wand she smiled and nodded gracefully.

'Tea would be wonderful, thank you. I'm not sure if there's much point in talking about it. It's just the same old thing really. I go into the Ministry for one task and they try to send me on five others while I'm there. Honestly, I'm getting really sick of it. I tried to get out of it dear, I really did. But they needed someone to accompany a trainee obliviator on a call and there was apparently no one else. As it turns out,' she made a gesture towards her dirty robes and her recently healed hands, 'the address of the calls got mixed up and I ended up with a rampaging mountain Troll.' She heaved a massive sigh as Daedalus put a cup of tea in front of her. 'The _joys_ of being a freelance witch with the Ministry of Magic,' she added, with a severe indication of sarcasm.

'Perhaps you could ask for a job in one department?' he suggested.

'No I don't think that will work. I'm too useful for my own good when it comes to the ministry. I'm tired of it I'll admit, but at least it's not boring.' She added a hollow laugh at the end of this sentence. 'I'm almost regretting not applying for the Defense against the Dark Arts job at Hogwart's.'

Daedalus, who had been groggily drinking the last of his tea, spluttered and sprayed his tea onto the table. He simply gaped at her from behind his 'all-cover' specs. 'What?' He exclaimed in disbelief.

'Didn't I tell you dear?' She replied.

"Didn't I tell you dear?" She said that an awful lot. Either her memory is horrible or she just doesn't think I'm worth informing he thought. You'd think she'd tell me something like that, something that important, something that affects me as well.

'No you didn't tell me!' He had ceased being groggy now though he spoke a bit louder than he meant to.

'I only considered it briefly. Though I admit if Dumbledore had asked me personally I might have taken the job.' She rolled her eyes up a little as though thinking about something. 'I remain rather surprised that he didn't approach me for the job.' It seemed as though she was talking more to herself now. 'I wonder why he didn't.'

It was not as though he wanted his mother as a Professor at Hogwart's but he still felt angry about this sudden disclosure. Not only had she withheld this piece of information (one which you'd think would be discussion worthy), but her not applying left the job vacant for that complete waste of a wand Dolores Umbridge. Being taught by your own mother would be a small price to pay to be rid of Umbridge and all her High Inquisitor shite, he thought. He was still at a loss to explain how the Ministry got away with employing such a useless professor. His mother seemed to be reading his expression, because she said:

'Assuming Dumbledore hired me, there would still be the issue of Fudge and his insane fears. He would likely have asked me to do what Dolores has been doing, or seen to it that Dolores was installed anyway,' she grinned slightly at the look of indignance on her son's face, 'yes, she's an interesting piece of work isn't she.'

This statement resulted in a long withheld verbal assault on everything having to do with Dolores Umbridge: Everything from the horrible classes, to her role as High Inquisitor, her toad like appearance, horrible cardigans, and overall unpleasant demeanor. His mother did not stop him, she either grinned or nodded, or both, though she occasionally made disapproving faces if he swore. It was a bad habit of his, one which had his mother constantly washing out his mouth with the 'scourgify' spell when he was younger.

Once the ranting had finished she fixed him with a serious look in her hazel eyes. 'What surprises me is that the general community doesn't seem to see it for the blatant power grab that it is.' He often heard his mother give opinions and he knew better than to repeat them to anyone, in the current wizarding climate it would likely cost her her job. 'Of course, the wizarding community is often oblivious to things,' she added mysteriously.

Daedalus had been feeling sleepy again but was perked up at once by this ominous statement. He had never asked his mother whether she believed that Voldemort had returned, and she had never raised the subject. There was good reason for this as they hadn't spent much time together since last June. Daedalus had spent most of his summer vacation visiting his uncle Braz who lived in Andorra. His mother naturally stayed at home for work. The pair barely spent a week together before Daedalus' return to Hogwart's and in that time his mother seemed mainly concerned with finding out how much he had learned about Andorran wizarding history, not to mention making sure Uncle Braz hadn't been teaching him any inappropriate charms. It seems Uncle Braz possessed a reputation of sorts in that area. But now, the time finally seemed to have come to ask the question.

'Are you talking about Voldemort?' He asked before he could second guess himself.

'Say He Who Must Not Be Named!' She replied. 'And yes I suppose I was referring to that.'

'So you think he's back?'

'I do,' she said plainly, 'but what I think matters very little. For whatever reason, he hasn't come out into the open and until he does, I fear most will continue to think Dumbledore and that Potter kid have simply gone round the twist.'

He looked thoughtfully at the ceiling for a few minutes, which was tin and had an elaborately embossed design featuring various magical creatures. Wondering about Voldemort and what his return could mean. He had believed it last year as soon as Dumbledore had said it. If there was one person Daedalus saw fit to take the word of it was Albus Dumbledore.

'Do not mention this topic again,' she said, 'and don't give me that look (her son had put on a noticeable scowl). I have no interest in discussing it. I believe he is back, but for now there is nothing else to say and hopefully there never will be. Now go to bed, it's late and you have been nodding off for the past hour.'

It seemed like another sudden burst of anger had gripped his mother so Daedalus decided not to argue the point. Although getting some more thoughts from his mother on the topic of Voldemort would have been nice, he had to admit that he was tired and she was never going to say more than she already had. With a stifled yawn and a quiet 'goodnight' to his mother he left the kitchen, walked down the hallway full of snoozing portraits, entered the third door on the left and went to sleep.

He woke the next morning much earlier than he'd wanted to but the sun was shining so brightly, directly into his eyes that he knew he could never fall back to sleep. With a sigh of reluctance he rolled out of bed, threw a t-shirt on over his pyjama bottoms and was about to leave his room when the doorbell rang. He looked over at his alarm clock. It was 7:45, definitely much earlier than he wanted to be up on his first day of the Christmas holiday. On the other side of the door he could hear his mother making her way into the hall, heard her place something just outside his room then making her way to the door. Not wanting to have to speak to whoever was visiting, he quickly opened his bedroom door and grabbed the tray his mother had set outside on top of a little round table. He had just put the tray down when he realized there was a note on it. It simply said 'I shall return by ten o'clock, Mum.'

The silver tray that he had hurried into his room was laden with seven bottles of varying sizes, and all containing varying potions. There were three purple potions, one of which frothed, one which bubbled, and another which seemed to vibrate. There was also a fizzy pink potion, and three other potions which sat perfectly still within their bottles, one brown, one clear, and one a slightly darker shade of pink. Resigned to what he must do, he pinched his nose and downed all seven potions as quickly as he could, which was very quick indeed. He'd had plenty of practice over the years. Feeling utterly disgusted by the early hour and the foul after taste of the seven potions, he trumped his way to the kitchen to have some pumpkin juice and busied himself with The Daily Prophet. When it was nearly ten o'clock he decided to have a bath just in case his mother returned with a guest, or seven.

The tub was only half full when he heard his mother return. Daedalus had deliberately left the door cracked a little so as to hear her return. It seemed that his suspicions were correct, and she had brought a guest home with her. He quietly clicked the door shut and locked it. His mother considered this bathroom a sanctuary and had put a charm on it to make it sound proof. This meant he wouldn't be forced to over hear what was most likely to be a boring conversation about the inner workings of the ministry. Sanctuary might perhaps have been an understatement of the room. His mother had put much effort and galleons into it. It was entirely white marble, around the ceiling were moldings engraved with ancient rune symbols. The tub was large enough for five people and was set three steps up from the floor. A massive gold framed mirror stood in the corner, and there was another to match above the sink. The fixtures were all gold, and the room was lit by an elegant gold wrought chandelier. The bathroom made you forget you were in an average flat. Indeed it seemed more like a Roman bath house, rather than the toilet of a wizarding family.

As the tub was now full of warm water covered with purple foam and bubbles, Daedalus hastily got undressed. He had just stepped out of his underwear when there came an excited twitter from directly in front of him. He froze. Glancing up slightly what he feared became reality; his Grandmother was standing in her portrait looking down on him. In his haste Daedalus had forgotten he usually disrobed looking away from the portrait. Of course, she wasn't supposed to be there at all, she was supposed to go to her portrait in the sitting room when the bathroom was in use. Nevertheless, there she was, gazing intently and causing a massive blush of embarrassment to appear on her grand son's face.

'Oho!' She twittered in a voice more suited to a sixteen year old girl. She gave him the once over with her large eyes and then twittered on. 'Oh, you're becoming a man!' She exclaimed.

Unfrozen he leapt straight into the bath to hide himself. If he had ever been more embarrassed or disturbed he couldn't remember. As it was he was shocked that the water hadn't started boiling with the heat of his blush, which was now so red it gave him the look of a cooked lobster.

'I came to deliver a message dear. Your mother wishes you to hurry as she would rather allow our guest to use this toilet, as opposed to the other.'

Daedalus merely grunted his acknowledgement but the portrait didn't seem ready to leave just yet. It seemed she had not yet embarrassed him enough.

'There's no shame in growing up, you know. You're becoming a man, you should be proud, and it looks like you'll make a fine man.' And with that last twittering sentiment she left the portrait. There is no shame in growing up or becoming a man, he thought fleetingly as he washed his hair. Having your grandmother catch you naked and proceed to comment on your growth however, is very disturbing.

Having finished his bath as quickly as possible, and checking the portrait a dozen times first, he got out of the bath to dry and dress in a corner that was slightly hidden from the view of peeping portraits. It wasn't until this point that he realized his glasses were still on. In the shock of his grand mother's appearance he had forgotten to remove them. They were now wet and covered in filmy bubble residue. Standing in front of the sink, he turned on the faucets and shut his eyes rinsing the 'all-covers' blindly. He didn't like to look at himself without his glasses on if it could be helped. Turning away from the mirror above the sink, he dried the glasses, slipped them back on and reluctantly decided he should go see who the guest was.

Opening the bathroom door as quietly as he could, he listened carefully for the sound of voices and was not disappointed. It seemed his mother and her guest were in the sitting room. He decided to eavesdrop for a moment before walking up the hall.

'I'm quite comfortable with my decision,' he overheard his mother say.

A smooth, drawling voice responded. 'All the same Roma, are you certain now is the correct time?'

'Yes Lucius I'm quite sure. I have been thinking about this for years and now is the right time. The offer is there and I am taking it. Current circumstances aside, I need to do what is best for me. I can still be useful to …' she trailed off. Daedalus had stepped on a loud creaky floorboard.

'Son, is that you?' She called. 'Come in here dear, and greet our guest.'

'Ah!' Spoke the drawling voice again as Daedelus entered the sitting room. A rectangular room covered in family portraits and furnished with two sofas draped in green velvet. A man had stood up to greet him, a man with sleek black robes, cold eyes, and white blonde hair. 'Young Mister Indree,' said Lucius Malfoy as he extended his hand in greeting, 'so good to see you again,' he added without the slightest indication of a smile.

'Thank you, sir. Nice to see you as well.'

'So glad you taught him proper manners, Roma. They seem to be forgotten nowadays.'

'Apparently I have not taught him how to dress for company,' glowered his mother. It was a comment directed at what her son was wearing. Muggle clothes. A pair of jeans and a black t-shirt with 'Blur' written on it that he had picked up in a muggle second hand store. When Daedalus had asked the shop clerk what 'Blur' meant, he received a condescending look and a reply of, 'don't you own a radio, kid?'

'But I …,' he began, but Mister Malfoy cut across him.

'Now now Roma, he couldn't have known there were guests coming. And we both know that children today have their own – ah - fashion.' He gave the last word an intonation that plainly said he didn't approve of muggle clothes on a wizard child. Of course, Daedalus already knew that.

'Well one would hope,' began his mother as she glanced at a portrait on the wall, 'that now you are becoming a man you will start to dress more like one.'

Red faced and utterly humiliated, Daedalus desperately wanted to run from the room but knew he couldn't. He could only hope that the subject would change and change quickly.

'So how is life in Ravenclaw?' Asked Mister Malfoy. His voice seemed almost gentle, as though he could empathize with this embarrassing moment. However, when Daedalus looked up to reply his eyes looked as cold as ever.

'Same as usual, really. Everyone in my year is working hard for OWL's.'

'It's a shame you weren't in Slytherin. They do so much more than study. It seems like all Ravenclaws do is study,' drawled Lucius Malfoy.

'Oh, he's not ambitious enough for Slytherin,' his mother rang in, 'he's all about books…studying, a pure Ravenclaw all the way.' If she had smiled a little this might not have been so hurtful, as it was she simply said it with a glare and Daedalus felt his shoulders droop slightly.

'Ambition sometimes comes with age. Perhaps when he is older he will pursue a less academic path.'

'Perhaps,' replied his mother, though she looked doubtful.

There was a prolonged silence until: 'It is time I went,' spoke Lucius Malfoy rising to his feet, 'I must get home to Narcissa, and then a brief visit to Fudge.'

Daedalus shook his hand again and wished him a good holiday. His mother walked her guest to the door and wished him good day. Mister Malfoy wished her a good day in return and was about to step out when he stopped. He turned around, and spoke in a voice that Daedalus could barely hear. 'I still believe you should reconsider this decision Roma.'

'And I still believe it is for the best. Trust me,' she added with a knowing look to Lucius. Daedalus had no clue what they were talking about, though it was certainly peaking his curiosity.

Having said the final word she shut the door and turned back to her son. Daedalus was standing awkwardly in the sitting room, not sure if he was about to receive a scolding or a motherly hug. 'Honestly!' she began, 'if you knew it was Lucius Malfoy you should have changed into robes. He is a very important man; we want to show our best side.' Her expression didn't seem to agree with what she was saying. In fact she looked as though she were suppressing a giggle.

'I need to go into the Ministry. I should return early this evening,' she said while throwing on her woolen cloak and picking up her briefcase.

She was about to leave when Daedalus blurted out, 'what is this decision you've made?'

Turning back and meeting her son's gaze with an unreadable look, she replied. 'Oh, didn't I tell you dear? We're moving to Canada.' And with that she swept out of the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: A Frosty Christmas

Canada? Was she serious?

Whatever Daedalus has been expecting his mother to tell him, it was certainly not the promise of moving across the ocean. Worse than the shock, was the feeling that he hadn't been told any of this before today. Perhaps it was her idea of spoiling Christmas for her son, knowing that he would get lost in thinking. How long had she been planning this? Why now? Why didn't she tell him? _Am I not important?_ Seemingly infinite thoughts began to swarm through his head (though his body remained standing still just inside the sitting room door). The apartment was quiet, but his brain felt as though mandrakes were shrieking inside it. Not a single positive thought crossed his mind for hours. A familiar feeling had begun to creep up on him: a somewhat irrational feeling of worthlessness, and misery. Only after his eyes began to burn did he turn his gaze away from the door his mother had closed on him. Not knowing what to do, Daedalus went back to his room and collapsed on his bed, resisting the temptation to magically destroy everything around him.

Lunch time came and went but Daedalus did not get up from his bed. He lie in bed, the springs squeaking lightly, his mind still so cluttered with thoughts that nothing was discernable. He couldn't focus but he couldn't act, and so he lay there, more as an act of attrition than anything else. In the end, after an awful day full of thinking, the only new feeling was one of longing, though he couldn't figure out what it was he was longing for. Those familiar feelings of misery, worthlessness, and simmering rage were still ever-present. _Perhaps I'm just longing to be longing for something_, he thought dismissively.

It became steadily darker until it became obvious that dusk was at hand. Romalda Indree had still not returned. Daedalus began to wonder if she was avoiding coming home, fearing, or more likely expecting an argument. But he didn't feel he had the energy to argue. It was as though he'd lost his wind and had not yet regained it. He felt strangely empty and a mental haze had replaced the screaming thoughts of his brain. He wondered if the haziness might simply be from lack of eating anything solid all day. For the first time in hours Daedalus decided to do something: he decided to go to the kitchen and eat something.

'Where've you been hiding?' came a low gravelly voice as he entered the kitchen.

Daedalus was only startled for a moment before realizing it was just the portrait of his Great Grandfather Finbar which was hung next to the door. He rarely spoke. Much as he did in life he seemed to prefer snoozing.

'I haven't been hiding,' Daedalus replied.

'Sulking then?' inquired the portrait. Finbar was extremely old and sat hunched in a black armchair glaring down in that creepy, knowing way that only the elderly are capable of.

'Sulking?'

'Aye. She finally told you and you were sulking.'

'What?'

'She figured you'd act like that.'

'Like what exactly?' said Daedalus who was now peppering up. Perhaps he did have the energy for a row.

Great Grandpa Finbar simply smirked at him. 'Like a child, of course,' he growled.

'Let me get this straight. She told you, before me? You're just a portrait,' he snapped.

'I was alive once, you know,' replied Finbar heatedly.

'Were you?' said Daedalus mockingly, 'you're still going to be packed in a box when we move.'

'Insolent boy!'

'Decrepit fossil!' Daedalus yelled. After a brief silence Finbar actually gave a shrewd sort of smile.

'Perhaps you're made of stronger stuff than she thinks,' he said and dozed off at once.

Daedalus felt his anger ebb away for the moment. He had just received what sounded like a compliment regarding his character. It may have come from the portrait of a crotchety and senile old man, but he was more than willing to take it. Feeling slightly better about himself he looked around the kitchen for something to eat. Sandwiches were not what he was in the mood for, and cooking without magic took more effort than he felt like exuding. So, with his mind set on food Daedalus put on his winter coat (cloaks aren't proper muggle attire) and scarf, took some of the muggle money he kept in his spare trainers and chose to go to the Chinese restaurant a few blocks away. Out in the chill of the night Daedalus made to turn right, onto the road that would take him to supper. From behind him a faint 'crack' seemed to indicate his mother's return. Though his mother was no slouch in the kitchen, she was no Chinese restaurant either. Daedalus decided then, to continue on to the restaurant. A row can always wait until after fried rice.

The restaurant was mostly empty when Daedalus arrived. This suited him just fine, as he was often the recipient of furtive or snide glances when out in public due to his glasses. 'All-covers' were rare enough in the wizarding world, but muggles never seemed to know what to make of them. They are certainly not an item worn for fashion's sake. A couple of patrons did glance at him as he entered. Daedalus didn't really care, because the owners of this restaurant always made him feel welcome. He had only been a few steps inside when Mrs. Chen welcomed him warmly and led him to a two person table by the window.

'Welcome, welcome. Mother not with you tonight?' She asked brightly.

'No,' he replied, shaking his head slightly. 'She's working late.'

Mrs. Chen smiled politely and was about to take his order when Mr. Chen came out from the kitchen area. He spotted his wife, and then Daedalus; he smiled wide as he shuffled his way over. Mr. and Mrs. Chen had been running this restaurant for over twenty years. A fairly old couple, they had three children all of whom were grown and helped in running the business. The Chen's were almost the same height. Mr. Chen was small, and Mrs. Chen was very small. Strangely enough one of their son's, Jin, was actually quite tall. Daedalus thought their shortness was rather cute. After growing steadily the past couple of years, he now towered over them.

'The usual?' they asked him at the same time.

'Yes please,' he replied immediately.

It was a very enjoyable meal, so good that it even took his mind off of mother's and the way they don't tell you things. Mister and Mrs. Chen checked in a number of times each: to refill his water, check if he was satisfied, and ask him about school. His mother had told them that Daedalus attended Eton. He thought that her lie was a bit grandiose. Choosing a less renowned school might have been more practical. But the Chen's never questioned the story, and only seemed to care that he was happy wherever he was. Daedalus often wondered if they would care that he was a wizard. At the end of his meal they brought the bill and a fortune cookie. The Chen's prided themselves on making their own fortune cookies, complete with hand-written messages. Cracking open the cookie he read it:

'_Christmas will bring you many changes.'_

'Got it right on the head,' Daedalus muttered grimly to himself. Folding the fortune cookie message into his pocket he put his money down on the table (complete with large gratuity) and bundled himself up to face the chilly December night. A few more patrons took side-long glances at him as he made his way out the door.

'You have good Christmas,' called Mr. Chen as Daedalus moved to the door. He waved graciously at the little man and stepped out into the cold.

Bundled up against the cold and a wind which was now icily slapping his face, Daedalus now made his way back to the flat pondering what he would say to his mother, not to mention the odd accuracy of his fortune cookie. Bothered by these thoughts, he attempted to distract himself by wondering what gifts he might get for Christmas and secretly thinking he should smash the gift he had bought his mother into a thousand pieces. Nearing the turning he would normally take back to Hartley Road, Daedalus noticed a group of people standing on the corner. His eyes were watering from the harsh wind, but squinting through it he noticed what seemed to be a group of boys around his age, perhaps a bit older. As he got nearer, the group also seemed to notice him.

'Nice specs kid,' issued a voice from the largest of the group, a tall, wide boy with a severe buzz cut. Daedalus was almost level with the group now, but determined to keep walking. Something about this situation was making him uneasy or, at least, more uneasy than usual.

'Thanks,' he responded in an expressionless voice. Daedalus knew the boy hadn't meant it as a compliment, but thought it better to reply with something polite and continue walking.

The group of boys laughed. 'It wasn't a compliment,' jeered the large boy.

Daedalus kept on walking, but he wasn't far past them and unless the wind was playing tricks on his ears, they were now following him.

'I know it wasn't,' Daedalus replied, trying to keep any emotion out of his voice. A great temptation to use magic had crept into his mind. He did his best to suppress this feeling, as he would be in major trouble if he used magic.

The group of boys was getting closer to him now. He hadn't wanted to walk too fast in case these rather obvious bullies took it as a sign of fear. Instead he walked at normal speed, and the group had picked up their pace. He could almost hear their breathing now, but was still about a block from the next turning on his way home. The walk seemed so much shorter when there wasn't a gang pursuing him.

'Where ya goin' kid?' the leader asked.

'Home,' Daedalus replied quickly.

'Home?' came a different voice, a more weedy, higher pitched one. 'Ain't no homes that way, only shops. 'Choo live in a shop?'

'I bet he lives in the butcher's back room. He's a right old poof,' said another of the boys, and the rest laughed.

'You shagging the butcher, kid?' said the leader in a mirthless voice. Daedalus was getting annoyed. He couldn't speak, because he could only think of very rude things to say, none of which were likely to be helpful in getting out of this situation.

Unfortunately he was so preoccupied with keeping his mouth shut that he didn't react quickly when he heard footsteps jog up behind him. He felt two hands hit him hard in the back and he fell forward, hitting the frozen pavement with a force that shredded his gloves. His hands were scraped, as were his knees, and the taste of blood indicated that he had bitten his cheek. Sprawled on his hands and knees trying to get back to his feet, not to mention thinking of how to get out of this, he caught a glimpse of two pairs of feet directly in front of him. Daedalus didn't need to look around to know that he was surrounded. Fear began to creep into his mind; he didn't know what to do. He remained on the ground. Though he was in danger, he was also certain these boys weren't going to kill him. They just wanted to beat him to a pulp for some reason, boredom perhaps. From what Daedalus knew of the Ministry of Magic, he wasn't sure whether using magic to avoid a severe thrashing was the same as saving yourself from murder.

'Get up!' said the leader.

Daedalus hesitated. He didn't think it was a good idea to obey an order from this lot. His current position seemed somehow safer. However his failure to respond bred a painful response. A foot had swung out from the left and kicked him hard in the ribs, causing the wind to leave him. He collapsed on his side coughing, trying to regain his breath.

'Get up!' demanded the leader.

Daedalus clutched his left side with his right hand. He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and wrapped his hands around his wand. Statute of Secrecy be damned, he thought, I can't sit here and take this. Just as Daedalus had formulated a plan, and was about to draw his wand a new voice came from down the road.

'Leave that boy alone!' called the voice. It was a silky voice and a familiar one too. Could it be who Daedalus thought it was? What would he be doing here?

'Leave him I said,' said the voice again, this time with a slight note of menace. 'I shall not tell you again.'

The gang certainly seemed to have lost their nerve now. Daedalus could see the pairs of feet backing away, itching to make a run for it, but they seemed to be waiting for the leader. He hadn't made a move yet.

'Ronnie, come on let's scarper,' said the weedy boy.

'Why? What's he gonna do?' replied Ronnie in mocking tones. 'Come to save your boy toy Mister?'

Daedalus dared to look up the street, and indeed, striding toward him was none other than Severus Snape, the potions master at Hogwart's. Although this was an embarrassing situation to be caught in by a teacher, Daedalus could not have been happier to see Snape at that moment.

'What am I going to do, you ask? My, my … there are so many things. How shall I decide?' said Snape. His mouth was curled into an amused smirk. 'This is your final warning.' Snape was staring right into Ronnie's face with his beetle black eyes. Ronnie, Daedalus was please to see, seemed to be quite scared now. His feet were shuffling backward but he was still not turning away. There came a sound like a gunshot and Ronnie was now hanging upside down. The other boys ran for it. There was another cracking sound and Ronnie fell to the ground in a heap. He pulled himself up, his face white and terrified, and he ran as fast as he could though he tripped and fell twice on the way down the road.

Professor Snape walked up to Daedalus and lowered his hand. Daedalus was afraid to look him in the face as he was helped to his feet. Professor Snape didn't exactly inspire confidence, and Daedalus was already feeling ashamed of the situation he had landed himself in.

'I admire your restraint,' he said, 'however you would have been well within the law to use magic in this circumstance. It was most unwise that you did not act.'

'I'm sorry sir,' Daedalus muttered while looking at the tops of his trainers.

'Do not apologize. But, should you find yourself in a similar situation, I would recommend that you do not succumb to weakness, doubt and fear.'

'Yes sir,' he mumbled again.

'I will walk you to your door,' he said simply, 'can you walk? Are you hurt?'

'I'm fine sir,' Daedalus said hurriedly. It was a lie. His ribs hurt a great deal. 'What are you doing here sir?' he asked as they walked down the now empty lane.

'I had come to visit your mother. When I arrived she was on her way to look for you. I volunteered to search and advised her to remain in case you arrived home. I asked her where you might have gone, and I was on my way to a Chinese restaurant when I found you.'

Daedalus was tempted to question why Professor Snape had come to visit his mother. He had never seen him in Hartley Road before, unlike Lucius Malfoy who was a regular guest. 'Well thank you, sir,' was all he could say.

'You may make it up to me by improving your potions work this term,' he said.

'Yes sir, I will try sir.'

'Good,' replied Professor Snape. 'This is your home, so I will take my leave. I will see you at Hogwart's.'

Before Daedalus could thank him again, the potion's master had turned on the spot and vanished in a swirl of black cloak. He took a deep breath (which hurt a lot on account of his ribs) and opened the door. He tried to step lightly going up the stairs to the flat, but apparently his mother had heard him. Above him, framed in the doorway, was his mother. She didn't look happy. Daedalus no longer wanted to row, he was feeling too ashamed of his lack of courage. Of course, she doesn't know how Professor Snape found me, he thought. At least not yet she doesn't. So for now, she can't make me feel more ashamed.

'You could have left a note,' she said, her nostrils flaring.

'I'm sorry Mum. But I wasn't sure where you were, so I decided to go out and eat.'

'Indeed!' she snapped. Apparently Romalda Indree was quite prepared to have a row.

'May I please go to my room?' Daedalus asked quietly.

His mother raised her eyebrows in surprise. She had definitely been expecting an argument. 'Don't you want to have at me?' she asked, unable to keep the surprise out of her voice.

'Not now Mum, please. May I go?' he asked again. He was fighting to keep tears out of his eyes. He was upset with himself, and embarrassed. All he wanted to do was to try to sleep, so at least he could be spared from his current mood for a few hours.

'Alright,' she said, though still plainly surprised. 'Are you okay?'

'Yes, I'm fine. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Goodnight.' He brushed by his mother and went to his room wincing a little as he went. As he closed the door behind him, a faint 'good night' met his ears.

Try as he might Daedalus could not fall asleep. It has been a very long day, a mentally exhausting day, yet he could not sleep. He tossed and turned, wishing he could change past actions. Such thoughts often come into the mind when one is trying hard to avoid them. Snape was bound to tell his mother about the muggle bullies. She probably wouldn't be pleased with her son's lack of action. As if Daedalus wasn't already bothered by the thoughts of an upcoming and inevitably nasty conversation. After a number of hours he fell into an uneasy sleep, which was permeated with dreams of being chased, beaten or for some strange reason, hugged.

Much to Daedalus' surprise and delight, he managed to avoid his mother for the next two days. She had been out of the flat working or running various errands, so she hadn't been around very much. Daedalus did not go wandering about town as he might normally have done. He stayed on Hartley Road entirely, and only left the flat to go to the workshop downstairs. Workshop is what his mother had called it. Daedalus thought it had a feel more like a classroom. Many years ago, after Patch N' Peg's closed, she bought the entire property. The shop was kept empty, but the back room was put to use by Romalda Indree. Where it had originally been the musty storage room of a marine shop, it was now fashioned in the style of a large study. On the far end was a work table with two cauldrons and cupboards above full of potion ingredients. On this near end, right inside the door, were shelves lined with books. A small reading desk was placed in the corner. The middle of the room was empty, and provided plenty of space to practice spell casting. Daedalus often practiced gymnastics in this space as well. Though he hadn't taken lessons since he was very young, he still enjoyed it, but certainly didn't consider himself much of a gymnast. He had become rather lanky and awkward over the past couple of years. Perhaps the best features of this room were the charms his mother had placed on it. Although she had never intended for Daedalus to use her workshop, the room was protected by charms which made spells performed in the room undetectable. This meant that Daedalus could practice spells in here, without fear of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement getting wind of it. If Daedalus had not struggled so much in his first year at Hogwart's, she likely would never have allowed him to use the room. But now he was glad his first year went badly, it had given him a fair amount of time to practice and experiment.

It was not until Christmas Eve that Daedalus and his mother were in the same space for more than five minutes. She arrived home late in the afternoon with a small Christmas tree in tow. Daedalus brought it up into the flat for her. Born out of Romalda's overwork, the Indree Christmas tradition involved decorating very late. It was a bit later than usual this year, but Daedalus wasn't complaining. At least she was willing to decorate the flat, however late it might be. Daedalus had become rather fond of the holiday season. Despite the tension between them it turned out to be a pleasant evening with no arguments or smashing of ornaments. He guessed that his mother was waiting for him to make the move of becoming the instigator.

When Daedalus woke on Christmas morning it was to a delicious smell of baking. Before he had fallen asleep Daedalus had half expected his mother to have run off to work. It had happened once before when he was eight, and a Welsh Green dragon was spotted by some muggle children in Cardiff who at first thought it was Father Christmas. The flames changed their minds. He got dressed and headed to the sitting room. Outside his door sat the shining silver tray and the same seven potions, this time mercifully accompanied by some Christmas shortbread cookies. He plugged his nose and downed the potions, wincing bitterly. He decided to savor the biscuits.

'Happy Christmas, Mum,' he said as he entered the sitting room.

'Happy Christmas, dear,' she replied, 'your presents are right there,' she pointed to a small pile under the tree. He never got a lot of presents, as he came from a small family with very few living members, but a present is a present and he always enjoyed opening them.

'Did you take your potions?' she asked, as Daedalus had grabbed the smallest package.

'Of course, and thanks for the shortbreads.'

'I just felt like baking this morning,' she said. Something in her tone caused Daedalus to think that there might be ulterior motives in her kindness. Christmas cookies are a great way to prevent holiday feuds, unless of course you run out.

'We're eating around two by the way.'

'Why?' asked Daedalus. If anything, the Indree Christmas dinners were typically as late as their decorating.

She heaved an audible sigh. 'Just business dear, just business. It is unlikely that I will return before tomorrow so I've made sure there is plenty to eat. I doubt you want to go to the restaurant again soon.'

Daedalus' face reddened. He had really been hoping she would stay silent about the bully incident once she found out. His thoughts must have shone through because she said: 'I'm not going to give you a hard time about that, just so you know.'

He looked at her in genuine surprise. 'You … you're not?'

'Am I that horrible?' she asked. Daedalus quickly shook his head.

'You shook your head a little too quickly. Lying requires patience and timing. Well, I am not going to give you a hard time. I will simply point out that it is permissible to use magic in that situation. In fact, not only is it permissible, it would also have been prudent. You could have been seriously hurt.'

'I know. I'm sorry. I was about to use my wand when Professor Snape came along.' Daedalus was beginning to feel deflated again.

'You might well have been, but after you're on the ground it's a tad late. A little more courage is all you need, and perhaps some more initiative. Maybe it will come to you in time. I only hope that the next time you are forced to defend yourself you will be ready.'

Apparently 'not giving a hard time' still involved plenty of lecturing. He felt empty again, upset with himself. A memory had surfaced in his mind, a memory of putting on the Hogwart's sorting hat in his first year. 'Odd,' it had said. 'Are you trying to suppress your feelings, I wonder? I can see it all anyway. There's intellect that's for certain … a willingness to learn … a fear of failure. I see many things, but you don't seem ready to accept them as part of you. Perhaps in time you will, but until then … Ravenclaw!' it shouted.

'I must go to the kitchen,' said his mother, 'and your present is lovely dear, thank you.' Daedalus had purchased a new briefcase for his mother. This one made of a luminous black dragon skin and had the initials 'RI' written in gold on the top. Inside were a few assorted bottles of Madam Rosmerta's finest.

With his mother gone to the kitchen Daedalus busies himself by opening his presents. It proved a good, but unfortunately rather brief distraction. The small package he had been holding turned out to be a fine silver muggle-made watch sent to him by Uncle Braz. According to the accompanying card, Braz had bewitched the watch to deflect minor spells. Daedalus thought it unwise to test this claim, but put on the watch so he could tell the time. The Malfoy's sent him a set of fine crystal phials for potion work. There was a gift from Etienne the Beauxbatons boy, which turned out to be a book on Quidditch in France. Daedalus laughed a little. He had sent a book on Quidditch in England to Etienne.

A voice piped up from behind him. 'I got your mother to pick that up. It's from me,' said Great Grandpa Finbar. Finbar had obviously come to visit the other portraits, who looked to be gathering at a painting of a long table hung above the mantle. Daedalus ripped open the package and looked at the item curiously. It was a slab of rock with the impression of a skeleton in it.

'It's the _decrepit fossil_ of a baby dragon,' he laughed throatily. Daedalus shared a good laugh with the old man and thanked him for the gift.

There were three packages left, all from his mother. The first contained a long woolen scarf woven with a dark blue yarn. The next contained both a maintenance kit for glasses, and for wands. The last package was very heavy and was found to contain three books. The top book was entitled '_Wizarding Careers_'. A gift no doubt inspired by this being Daedalus' OWL year. The second and most interesting book was a thick leather covered volume called '_Defensing Darkness_', which seemed to be an excellent guide on defending against dark creatures and spells. Daedalus flipped through that book for a while before taking a good look at what the third book was. He picked it up and took in the cover: it was blue, and in gold there was a tracing which was the outline of a body. The title read, '_The Wizarding Male_'

Thinking he knew what this was about Daedalus picked it up and began to thumb through it. It was full of information, complete with sketches and diagrams, some of which moved. The contents of the book gave him an unpleasant feeling of prickling embarrassment, on top of the absolutely horrifying feeling that his mother had gifted it to him. How much thought had she put into this present? Daedalus shuddered to think about it. Was being seen naked going to keep coming back to haunt him, he wondered. Greatly concerned that his mother would return any moment to discuss male bodies and their functions, he hastily gathered his gifts and ran to his room to hide until Christmas dinner.

The only prompting Daedalus was getting to leave his room came from his stomach as the smell of Christmas dinner wafted in from the cracks in the door frame. There wasn't much point in trying to hide anyway. It wasn't as though his mother was unable to enter his bedroom. But he decided that Christmas dinner was an unlikely time for a massive argument, or other unpleasant subjects. So it was that his mother called him for dinner at two-thirty, according to his new watch. The smell of the meal filled him with hungry anticipation, the kind you only get from special dinners.

'Happy Christmas,' said his mother as she took her seat at the round table. 'Eat up, dear, you're looking very thin. I've been meaning to say something.'

'I eat all the time, I swear' said Daedalus as though defending himself from serious accusation. 'And happy Christmas to you too, Mum,' he said smiling, 'this looks really good.' Daedalus thought he understated things. The meal looked nothing short of spectacular, as his mother's meals usually did if she had time to prepare them.

'Oh, and thanks for the gifts,' he said cheerfully. He hadn't wanted to bring up the gifts in case it sparked an unwanted discussion, but at the same time he felt he ought to be polite. After all, he really had been needing a new scarf.

'You're welcome, dear,' she said quickly. To Daedalus' surprise, she didn't meet his eyes. She was looking intently at the gravy boat and blushing slightly. He began to suspect that perhaps she didn't want to discuss _'The Wizarding Male' _any more than he did. With politeness having been recognized; mother and son set off through the wondrous process that is eating. A process which, according to his new watch, took the Indree's almost a full hour. Not including Christmas pudding. The pudding added another fifteen minutes, and what felt like ten pounds.

When it looked as though they were finished eating, Romalda Indree flicked her wand causing the left-overs to fly around and, either pack away, or combine with bread to make turkey sandwiches. When this process had finished, his mother turned to him smiling. 'There, that should do you for food until I return. I forgot to get some crackers, I apologise, but I'll pick some up and we'll have them for New Year's instead, ok?'

'Sure, no problem, when are you leaving?'

'Very soon, I'm already packed. In fact, being early might be the right thing to do. I think I'll leave in about twenty minutes.'

A sudden thought had just occurred to Daedalus. Something he had managed to overlook ever since he got home. 'Mum, where's Stephen? I just realized I haven't seen him.' Stephen was the family's owl, a tawny.

'I sent him on a long delivery. I'm sure he'll be back soon. Did you have something to send?'

'Nothing that can't wait, just thank-you letters.'

Poor Stephen, thought Daedalus, a few hours later. The flat was quiet except for the faint noise of a party which was coming from a portrait in the sitting room. Stephen was off on deliveries so often that Daedalus rarely saw him. He hadn't seen Stephen since he came bringing Daedalus his fifteenth birthday present last April. He had always liked Stephen, and secretly hoped his mother would bequeath him to her son. Instead, Daedalus was sans owl.

That evening Daedalus passed the time by reading _'Defensing Darkness' _by candlelight. It was a fascinating book, which contained information on dark creatures and the best spells and strategies for defeating them. There was a worry in the back of his mind though. As silly as it was, he was worried that his mother had given him this book, not just for educational purposes. He wondered whether or not this had something to do with what may happen with Voldemort returned. This thought remained in the back of his head, as his thoughts were mainly focused on which spells he wanted to try out tomorrow in the workshop. Some of the spells he hadn't heard of before, but there was one he had always wanted to learn. So far they hadn't covered it in lessons, though the spell became quite infamous in his third year, and his mother had mentioned another recent incident involving Harry Potter.

'Expecto Patronum!' called Daedalus. It was now Boxing Day and he had been down in the workshop for hours. He was trying to learn the patronus charm, a spell used to protect you from Dementors. So far, he was having little luck. The best result so far had been a faint silvery mist that hung just in front of him, though it vanished quickly. The key to the spell, apparently, was to think of a very happy memory. If the spell worked properly what was called 'the true or corporeal patronus' would emerge from the wand of the caster.

'That memory wasn't good enough?' he mumbled to himself. He twirled his wand through his fingers, and tried to think of another memory to use. He remembered getting his Hogwart's letter; he had felt so happy that day because his mother had been worried that he wouldn't be able to attend. She had told him so shortly after his eleventh birthday, she had tears in her eyes. But the letter did arrive, and Daedalus had been so happy, as was his mother. Concentrating hard on the new memory he set himself to try again.

'Expecto Patronum!' he called for the hundredth time. This time something happened, a shape blasted from the wand. Unfortunately Daedalus didn't see what had happened, because his mother had burst into the workshop. 'Come upstairs please,' she said in a loud voice. When Daedalus looked back around there was no sign of what had emerged from the wand. He gathered up the book and followed his mother upstairs.

She led him to the sitting room and pointed for him to sit on the sofa in front of the double window. She took a seat on the sofa sitting opposite. There was something about the way she looked, something unsettled, but Daedalus couldn't put his finger on it.

'I apologise for barging in,' she said, 'I'm impressed though.'

'Why?' Daedalus said in surprise.

'You produced a corporeal patronus. It is quite impressive, though I daresay it is much more difficult if you're facing a Dementor.'

'Did I really?'

'Certainly,' she replied.

'Did you see what form it took?' he inquired.

'No I am afraid I didn't,' she said not meeting his eyes. Her face seemed to have gone white for a brief moment. But before Daedalus could ask her again, she changed the subject. 'It is time we talked.' Her tone was rather business like.

'Mum, I'll read the book, but I don't want to talk about that with you.'

His mother jerked her head up a little in surprise. 'What? Oh … no, no … don't be stupid, that's not what I meant.' She was blushing, and Daedalus was satisfied. He knew perfectly well what they were supposed to talk about, but he couldn't resist the urge to test his mother's reaction.

'You know very well I meant that we need to talk about moving,' she said, even more business like. 'We will be leaving a couple of days after you return from Hogwart's. I will be packing the flat up while you're gone so if there is anything you don't want me to find I suggest you take it back to school with you, or pack it in boxes before you go back.'

'What do you mean by that?'

'Perhaps I am mistaken, but I thought that as you are a teenage boy there may be things concealed in your room you do not wish your mother to find.'

'Ew,' was the only response he could come up with.

'Ha! I was right. Well this is your chance to continue hiding whatever it is from me. I don't particularly want to find anything.'

Now it was Daedalus turn to blush. He didn't really have anything that needed to be hidden from his mother. But all the same, he thought it best to pack his room up in boxes before going back to school. 'Right then, I will pack my room before term starts.'

'Jolly good,' she said, 'that about covers it I believe.' She began to rise from her seat at the sofa.

'What do you mean "that about covers it"?' he said loudly.

'I would have thought the comment was self-explanatory.'

'And I would have thought there might be some other things that you need to explain to me.' He was becoming agitated. Was she just playing coy, or did she truly believe that she had nothing to explain?

'Such as?'

'Where to start!' he yelled. 'Why are we moving? Where will we live? Why didn't you tell me? Why don't I get a say?'

Her response was to scowl at him.

'Why are you scowling at me?' he growled.

'You're being childish,' she said simply.

'How do you figure? Are you trying to make me angry or something?'

'You seem to be getting angry on your own, dear. I'll answer your questions, but as head of this household it is my decision, not yours. If you were of age you would get a say. But as you are not of age, I did not consult you. I had only found out the news a month before you arrived home.'

'What news?' he growled again. He found his left hand was shaking, so he covered it with the right.

'I have been offered a job in Canada. A very good job in fact. I am to take up the position of Deputy Head Mistress at a school called Mattridale Academy. It is actually an American school but it is near the border and serves students from both countries.'

'As for where we will be living, I am not certain yet. There are options and I will sort that out in the coming months. So that should answer your questions, I'll go fix some dinner.'

Daedalus couldn't believe this. He was certainly not finished. He was bursting to say things, and both his hands were now shuddering.

'We're not finished!' he screamed at her. He was breathing a little more heavily now.

She started, and sat back down. When she spoke however, it was in a voice of forced calm. 'Why aren't we finished?'

'Why? Why? Do I not matter at all to you?'

'What a thing to say. Of course you matter, I just didn't see any reason to write you at school and explain that I had applied and interviewed for a new job.'

'When did you interview?'

'Last summer I went to the school for interviews on two different occasions. There was a final interview in London in September.'

'So you've actually been planning this for a while. Yet, you never thought to mention it to me.' His voice had started to shake. There was now a faint ringing in his ears.

'As I have told you, the final say in this matter is mine. I fail to understand your problem.'

'That's not surprising,' he spat at her. The ringing was getting higher and louder.

'Trying to make me feel guilty are we? You really are behaving like a child, you know. This should be a simple and civilized conversation,' she said exasperatedly.

'Oh, pardon me ma'am,' he replied sarcastically, hands still shaking.

'Don't get clever with me Daedalus Jamison Indree.' She must be annoyed now; she had used his full name.

'Fine! I don't want to keep you from any other huge life changing decisions you are making without me. I'll only ask one more question, how am I going to get back to Hogwart's next year?'

His mother actually laughed at this, in surprise. 'You … you didn't think you would be going back to Hogwart's, did you?'

Daedalus sat stunned. Now that she had said it, it did seem odd for him to have believed that his education would continue in the same school. But this made him even angrier. Where was he going to go to school now? How could she take him away from everything he knew without any discussion? This just raised further questions in his mind, which were becoming hard to hear over the ringing and the distraction of his shaking limbs.

'Where will I go to school then, your school?'

'No, it seems in North America there is a rule against a child attending a school in which his or her parent works. There are other schools; I have asked Dumbledore to provide me with a recommendation. I don't know much about the other schools, whereas he knows a great deal.'

'So … so … we're never coming back here?' he asked.

'I never got the impression you enjoyed Hogwart's. You aren't a great student. You don't have any friends that I know of. Why does it matter if we leave?'

'I don't want to leave Hogwart's. I don't want to move. You'd know that if my opinion mattered to you.'

'Grow up. Stop harping on these same points. You are acting like a little boy! If you could see yourself I'm sure you would realize it. I'm feeling slightly embarrassed for you.'

Daedalus was absolutely seething. There was a sharp pain in his stomach now, along with his other emotion induced ailments. He clutched his shaking hands to his stomach.

'Embarrassed?'

'Yes son, embarrassed. I'm your mother and I love you but I am growing tired of your constant weakness. Maybe this move will toughen you up a little.'

Daedalus shot to his feet, his right hand clamped tightly on his chest and his left clenched in a tight fist. He was shaking from head to toe. 'I AM NOT WEAK!' he shouted, so loudly it felt as though his throat was ripping apart. At that precise moment there was an almighty crash, the double window behind him blasted out from the wall, frame and all, falling to the street below with a sickly crack. The chill wind blew into the room. He saw his mother's shocked expression, though his vision had become blurred. He swayed on the spot then collapsed forward, the sitting room fading into nothing. He wouldn't remember hitting the floor.


	3. Chapter 3

A brief note: I'm sorry it took so long to get this done. Originally this was just going to be the end of chap. 2 but I thought it made it too long. Then I thought chap. 3 would have more to it but I kept adding stuff to this and thought it would be too long. As a result this is a pretty short chapter, and I hope I can do chap. 4 much quicker than I did this one. I can't tell you what chapter 4 brings, but I'm looking forward to writing it. Please read and review if you can, and most of all I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 3: The End of Holidays

The dream he had been having was starting to fade. He hadn't even realized it was a dream until this moment as consciousness slowly returned. He had been in an underground station, though it wasn't one he had ever been in. He had tried to find the name on the wall but couldn't. The station had been alive with the buzzing of voices but there hadn't been anybody there. In the dream, he had been frightened. The voices continued their invisible chattering. He had heard the train approach and slide to a stop. It had been blue, with a white stripe down the side. It hadn't looked like any train he had taken in London. The doors opened and at once a flow of black-cloaked beings had come towards him. Had they been dementors? No, they hadn't, just people in black cloaks of all different sizes. They'd been faceless yet wore no masks, as though he had just been blind to their appearance or couldn't recall what they looked like. They had surrounded him and he'd tried to cast a spell but it did not work properly. A mirror had appeared in front of him and he'd seen his reflection. Only it was not he who'd been reflected, it was someone else. A young man in his early twenties perhaps, with olive skin and a similar hair color to his own. There had been a familiarity though, as if he'd known this person somehow. The mirror had shattered and the beings had closed in. That's how the dream had ended and now he lay there slowly regaining consciousness.

Though he knew he had been dreaming, and that he must have been asleep, Daedalus could not remember going to sleep. His mind was slowly coming out of its stupor and he was still uncertain of where he was or what was going on around him. He could have opened his eyes but he did not. He could hear voices in the hall talking softly. He was in his bedroom now. The last place he could remember being was the sitting room. He had argued with his mother … then the window exploded … then he had ended up in his room dreaming. Now he was waking up. He could not remember what happened after the window exploded no matter how hard he tried. He felt very weak. Actually, he felt as though he had no mass, as if his body had melted to the bed. As he tried to move his hand, the door creaked open and he decided to lay still.

There were two sets of footsteps. A soft set, stopped just inside the door. The other set were much louder and made their way to his bedside. He heard the shuffling of what might have been his desk chair being slid across the floor. The person next to the bed sat down heavily. It's an odd sensation to be looked at with your eyes closed. Daedalus could feel the gaze and he attempted to add this to his sensory information. I'm lying in bed, he thought. There are two people here: one is sitting next to me and the other is by the door. There were other differences he had not yet noticed. For one, he was wearing different clothes. He had been in jeans and a t-shirt before and now he was certain he was in pajamas. Flannel has a distinctive feel. His shirt was not buttoned however and was open. He could feel the air touch his exposed skin, the bed covers were folded over at his waist. His arms lay limp in the flannel sleeves. As his mind finally slid clearly into the moment, his main concern became whether or not his glasses were on. They were.

The person in the chair shifted and Daedalus felt a hand on his chest. It seemed large, with rough skin, yet the owner had a very soft touch. The hand felt around his abdomen, the right side of his rib cage, and then the left ribs.

'Ow,' he gasped. His left ribs still hurt where he had been kicked by the bullies. He knew there was a visible and nasty looking bruise too.

'You're awake.' This voice came from the chair next to the bed. The voice was rough, just like the speakers hands. 'He's awake Roma.'

He heard the soft footsteps move swiftly to his bedside and felt a much smaller, softer hand gently caress his forehead. He opened his eyes and met the gaze of his mother. She looked different somehow. Her face was full of concern. Her eyes appeared bloodshot.

'You gave me a real fright,' she said. Her voice trembled slightly. She smiled down at him as best she could. Her emotions (which rarely surfaced) seemed to have the better of her at the moment.

Daedalus did not want to speak. Even though he was unsure of what had happened, he could not help but enjoy this maternal attention.

'You remember Healer Derbin, don't you dear?' She pointed to the man who had been examining him. He was an older man, average sized aside from a large bulbous nose, equally large silver moustache and wild silver hair which flew out in all directions. Daedalus thought Healer Derbin looked like one of those mad scientists you might see in the old muggle films his father had been so fond of. Derbin had kindly eyes though. Blue and twinkling … definitely not mad.

'I'm retired now,' he laughed, 'he can call me Munford if he likes. Munford Derbin pleased to meet you.' And he shook Daedalus' hand as though they were just meeting for the first time.

'A pleasure, sir,' Daedalus replied and the corners of his mouth twitched. He attempted to add a polite laugh but discovered he lacked the energy to do so. His voice had sounded wispy too, as though he were hearing it from a distance. Healer Derbin smiled.

His mother continued to stroke his hair, and Healer Derbin was now examining Daedalus' bookshelf. A brief silence ensued which saw Daedalus continue to ponder how he had ended up back in his bedroom. A few fleeting and far-fetched thoughts occurred including that Lord Voldemort had attacked the flat only to be defeated by Daedalus, who had suffered amnesia as a result of the victory. There was another thought however, a more realistic one. He hoped that it was not that reason that he was laying here. It surely can't be that, he thought. He willed it to not be so. As the silence grew longer, so did his anxiety. His body felt near dead, but his mind was certainly alive now. He thought he had best not wait for the adults to start the conversation.

He cleared his throat, with surprising effort and got the pair's attention. 'So what happened?' he asked quietly. He did his best to pretend he wasn't dreading the answer.

They had obviously been waiting to be asked because the response from his mother came quickly, and flatly. 'You had a spurt.'

Daedalus blinked at her and swallowed hard. 'Wh - what?' he stammered.

'A 'paroxysm' if you prefer our Healer jargon,' said the rough voice of Derbin. 'But the word 'spurt' rolls off the tongue so much better than the term paroxysm, I daresay. I suppose that is why the term 'spurt' has become much more common. That word 'spurt' does not quite properly define what occurs of course. I suppose neither does 'paroxysm' but …'

'Fascinating Munford,' said his mother sarcastically. 'You remember about spurts don't you Daedalus?'

'Yes.' He swallowed hard again. This was what he was fearing had happened. 'But I haven't had one since I was three, why now?'

It was Derbin who replied. 'My diagnosis would be that it was caused by a combination of things. Your mother tells me you were having a heated argument prior to this?' Daedalus nodded and Derbin continued, 'that would certainly have contributed. The other factor I believe was this.' He pointed his wand at the large, now yellow and purple bruise on Daedalus' side. 'Hold still,' he said. Derbin bent to his knees and placed the wand tip into the middle of the bruise. Daedalus winced as it stung at first, but as the Healer kept his wand on the spot the bruising shrank and vanished.

'Physical injury,' said Derbin, 'definitely a factor. There was a small fracture at that.'

'Fracture?' said Daedalus.

'A small one in the third rib, I healed it while you were unconscious. At first I thought it had occurred in your spurt as your mother was unaware of the injury. You must have been in a fair bit of pain walking around with that.'

'Why didn't you tell me?' his mother cut in.

Daedalus could feel a light flush forming in his cheeks. He had just remembered his last words to his mother prior to his attack. 'I … er … didn't want you to think I was weak,' he said quietly. His mother turned her eyes away and looked at the floorboards.

'You can't be too weak if you were putting up with that injury,' said Derbin.

'Not physical weakness perhaps,' interjected his mother, 'but it is mental weakness. Knowingly hiding an injury, and look at what the result is.' She gestured to her son lying in bed as she spoke. 'And it could have been worse. Much worse!'

'Did you have to say that?' asked her son quietly. His voice wavered, and his eyes watered. 'Couldn't you have just let it go?'

Her lip quivered as she looked down to him. She sat on the bed and placed her right hand to his cheek. Her thumb moved back and forth over his skin. 'I'm sorry,' she said. It was the most genuine apology Daedalus had ever heard his mother make. He was almost tempted to believe it. She took to her feet soon after.

Healer Derbin, who had been busying himself with making notes in his ledger piped up again. 'I say, Roma. Did you hear about Arthur Weasley?'

'Yes, he's in St. Mungo's is he not?' Her voice had reverted back to one of keen curiosity. 'Odd circumstances I hear.'

'Indeed,' Derbin replied. Daedalus did not hear the rest of the conversation. He began to tune it out and the voices faded away, replaced by the sound of his own voice and his own thoughts. He had met this Arthur Weasley once, when his mother had taken him to the Ministry. When his mother introduced Daedalus to him, she had called him 'a good man'. Daedalus hoped he was okay. Some of the Weasley children were at school with him. They were easy to recognize, but he had never spoken to any of them. He again hoped Mr. Weasley was all right. Daedalus knew what it felt like to lose a parent and he wouldn't wish it on anyone. As he drifted off to sleep his thoughts were mingled with concern for a family he did not know, and sadness regarding the loss of his own father.

Healer Derbin stayed the next two nights in the Indree's flat. For that time Daedalus had been told to remain in bed, though he could barely move anyway. Derbin had prescribed that Daedalus take his potions every single weekday (it was previously Monday, Wednesday, and Friday), and added to the regimen a small dosage of a potion which both resembled and tasted like watered down tar. It darkened his teeth so badly that Derbin had to teach him a special cleaning charm to bring them back to normal. This change in regimen would remain in effect until his birthday in April at which time it would return to the previous three day a week dosage. His mother informed him that Professor Snape (who brewed his potions while at Hogwart's) had been notified of the change and had given his assurances that it would be no trouble. As nice as that was, Daedalus couldn't help dreading another two days of the week going down to the dungeons before class to meet with the potions master.

The day before his return to Hogwart's was the first day since his attack that he had felt like himself. He finally had energy, just in time too as he still had homework to finish. Despite all his time in bed he had barely lifted a quill; partly due to physical tiredness, and partly due to a somewhat general apathy. Being ill had seemed a good excuse to procrastinate.

That afternoon Healer Derbin dropped in to perform one final check-up. He exclaimed joy at Daedalus' speedy recovery and handed him a bar of Honeyduke's chocolate to cap the end of the exam. Things soon took a negative turn however as Derbin reached into his briefcase and removed a book with a blue leather cover. Daedalus eyed the book warily and sat up in his bed. His initial reaction was a thought of leaping through the window. But it was winter and far too cold outside to be wearing pajamas. That and it was a decent drop to the ground.

'I understand your mother gave you a copy of this book for Christmas,' said Derbin. The book in question was 'The Wizarding Male'. Daedalus was beginning to feel as though this book were haunting him.

Daedalus nodded and blushed. Just when he thought he would get back to Hogwart's without discussing that wretched book.

'Well, as I am a health professional – or I was – I thought, or rather your mother thought I would be a good person to discuss it with you and find out if you had any questions.'

'No questions,' blurted Daedalus.

'None?'

'Yes. I mean no … questions … none.' Daedalus voice was betraying him. It was loud and spastic, and it would be obvious to anyone he had questions but was simply uncomfortable.

'There is no need to be embarrassed. You are simply growing up. It is one of life's natural processes.'

'I'm fifteen now, this isn't new to me. I know what it's all about.'

'So you know about puberty?' asked Derbin. Daedalus nodded and had to hide a wince. He couldn't explain why, but he really hated that word.

'And you know all about sex?'

'Sure … sort of.'

'Have you read the book thoroughly?'

'Yes most of it.' This was a small lie. He had only read about half.

'Most isn't all,' said Derbin.

'Shocking, that is,' Daedalus snapped. He hadn't meant to. He meant it to come out with an intonation of humor. It had come out quite the opposite and he could tell the healer was offended. It wasn't as though he had no questions. But for whatever reason, he found discussing anything sexual to be humiliating. The other boys in his year didn't seem to have this problem. They talked plenty on the subject.

'I'm sorry,' said Daedalus. 'It's just that … I don't know.'

'You find it hard to talk about,' said Derbin.

'Exactly.'

'I was the same way. Many people are. I'll bet you've heard plenty of talk from boys in your year but remember that although they talk, the probably _know _very little about what they're saying. I bet you wanted to leap out of the window when I brought out the book.' This statement caused Daedalus to laugh out loud. 'I thought so,' Derbin continued, 'but puberty and all that comes with it, is all about growing up. I don't imagine you want to be a child forever.'

'No,' replied Daedalus who wanted nothing more than to be perceived and treated as a mature person. 'I do think that's what Mum wants though.'

'In my experience the majority of parents have trouble dealing with their children getting older. Being a parent is not as easy as you may think. But to be fair, growing up is more difficult than many adults believe.'

Daedalus could not help but smile at this. He hoped he would always remember those words.

'Now,' Derbin began, 'if you have any questions? I can assure you than anything we discuss will stay between us.'

He was now relaxed. A rapport had been created and he felt free to open up a bit. And so Daedalus began to ask questions, and Derbin answered them all in a kindly and mature way; even when Daedalus inquired about something he had heard an older boy, Roger Davies had done. It turned out to be one of the most comforting and informative conversations he had ever had. Derbin didn't dance around any of the topics either. He was very straight forward, a quality which Daedalus would come to respect greatly in people. In the end there was just one more thing on his mind.

'How do you know if you're in love?' he asked.

Derbin thought for a moment rubbing his chin with a large right hand. 'That one I cannot give a good answer too. You'll know when the time comes. I'm not trying to avoid the question. But you will understand, that love is a difficult thing to quantify, especially romantic love. A mature young man though you are, I think you might be young yet to be concerned with that. And I mean no insult by that.'

'I was simply curious, and I am not insulted.'

'Is there someone you are interested in?' Derbin asked with a wink.

'No … well,' he began. 'It seems stupid to ask but how can you tell if you are interested in someone?'

'Who is the young lady?'

'We are speaking hypothetically Healer.' This was not entirely true, and Daedalus was worried a slight blush might give him away.

'Well – hypothetically, mind you,' smiled Derbin, 'you would know. I think some people experience crushes let's call them, in different ways. Most commonly one would be thinking constantly about the person, sometimes to the point of distraction, gazing overlong when you see them. You may be picturing their face in your mind when they aren't around, or imagining having conversations with them or being out with them, that sort of thing.'

This raised another question in Daedalus' mind, but he wasn't about to ask it. Instead he engaged in some small-talk with the old man before wishing him a good day as he stood up to leave. Derbin in turn wished Daedalus a pleasant term and patted him on the shoulder. As Daedalus pulled the bedroom door open Daedalus spoke again.

'Thank you,' he said.

Derbin stopped and searched Daedalus for a moment. 'You're welcome,' he said and Daedalus knew that the old man had understood. It finally felt as though someone had treated him as if he weren't a child. He had to thank him for that.

Stephen the owl returned early that evening but he did not return alone. Another owl was with him. Daedalus knew this owl; her name was Gigi, a brown and white short-eared owl that belonged to Etienne's sister Virginie.

'Hello both of you,' he said as he handed them some owl treats. Gigi dropped the envelope she had been carrying to the table. It was a large square envelope, made with thicker paper than the typical one possibly because the weather had been so wet of late that Etienne wanted to protect the contents. This letter was addressed to James Indree. Daedalus tore it open at once with some anticipation expressed behind his all-cover specs.

Out of the envelope came a letter, and another envelope which was slightly smaller than the other and had a solid back. He read the letter, and it read:

_Allo Jamey,_

_I forget to put this with your Christmas gift. Remember when we met in the summer my mother took a picture of us on the beach. Ihave been meaning to send a copy so now you have one. Virginie says allo as well. The picture does not move I should mention. We bought muggle film by mistake. Hope you like it anyway. Maybe this summer we can plan to meet again._

_Sincerely,_

_Etienne Veilleux_

Daedalus smiled as he thought back to the summer. Uncle Braz took him to the south of France for a few days to visit the beaches. Daedalus knew there was a magic only beach in France but that was not where they went. Braz enjoyed the muggle beaches, crowded though they were. After discovering what beach his Uncle wanted to visit, Daedalus decided to visit a different one and meet him later. Uncle Braz preferred 'clothing optional' beaches, where he tended not to choose the clothing option. So instead Daedalus walked ten minutes to another beach where about half-way through the day he met Etienne and his family by coincidence. He had been tanning (or attempting to) and a beach ball bounced on his face. A familiar voice apologized from a distance and when he sat up he saw Etienne walking toward him looking as though he had spent most of the summer under the hot sun.

It turned out to be the best day of his summer. He met Etienne's family, including his older sister Virginie who was twenty-one and worked with the French equivalent of the Ministry of Magic. She was petite, with long dark hair and mischievous eyes, much like her brothers. Before the end of the day Madame Veilleux had taken a picture of the trio. Daedalus, although he remembered the moment of standing between the two and putting his arms around them, had forgotten there was a photograph.

The photo was in full color. Which was fine except that Daedalus was so pale compared to the other two that together they looked like a human biscuit, with Daedalus as the filling. He also looked rather silly in his tinted summer all-covers. But none of that mattered, they were all smiling broadly, obviously not worried about such trifles as silly glasses or pale skin. He gazed for a long while upon the photograph. He would have to use Gigi to send a thank-you note, and should tell Etienne that it was unlikely he could see him this summer. What with moving to another continent and all. A foul mood returned to him. Spending the summer on the beach in France was much more appealing then what he was actually going to do. He wanted to live more moments like this photograph. He always wanted to look that happy, and he couldn't imagine anywhere else where that could happen.

That night was spent packing the items that were not returning to school with him into boxes as his mother had requested. His unfinished homework would need to be done on the train tomorrow. Most of his books, toys, and photos went into the boxes. He wouldn't need these things at school. Three packed boxes later his room was almost barren. He found it an odd site. For ten years this had been his room, and now he would go back to school only to return to this barren space and the promise of leaving his home forever.

He kept one photograph to bring to school with him. It was the photo that Etienne had sent him, and when it was time for him to go to bed that night, he looked at it again before carefully placing it under his pillow and wiping his eyes dry.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Eyes Wide Open

The morning turned out to be a hectic scene. The letter that Stephen had brought home with him had put Daedalus' mother in a major mood, and she left the previous evening after hastily packing an overnight bag. She half-heartedly and hurriedly apologized that she couldn't see him off to school before running off leaving Daedalus to pack up his room alone in the flat. The only thing to pack in the morning when he woke was the picture that he had placed under his pillow the night before. He smiled again before sliding it into his travel bag and getting ready to make the floo power journey to The Leaky Cauldron, and from there to King's Cross. He really was heading back to school for the last time. It was a feeling that swam in his stomach the entire day and by the time he was standing on platform nine and three-quarters, in front of the Hogwart's Express, he was tempted not to bother getting on.

Only the thought of having to return home and explain to his mother why he was not at school spurred him to board the train. His holiday at home had rather put him off her for the time being. He knew he'd come around eventually, but was currently enjoying verbally abusing her in his head. Daedalus managed to find a compartment to himself, and took to spreading out his books to finish the homework he had put off for so long. He debated writing a letter to Etienne as well. Originally he had intended on writing an immediate response to send back with Gigi, but he changed his mind. He sent her back empty beaked, and at the moment was unsure whether he would write him a letter at all. He put that thought out of his head, believing it to be his sub-conscious distracting him from his arithmancy assignment.

Aside from the witch with the snack trolley the only time the door to the compartment opened was when Daedalus' fellow fifth year Ravenclaw Mandy Brocklehurst stepped in to say hello. She asked him if he had a good holiday and he responded with a sighed 'no' before he could stop himself. Mandy was a kind girl and wanted to know why he had not enjoyed himself. Daedalus danced around her inquiries and managed to change the subject by commenting on the silver and gold bracelet she was wearing which turned out to be a Christmas present from her aunt. It was an awkward conversation and when Mandy left about ten minutes later, Daedalus literally kicked himself for not giving a false answer to her question. He had meant to be low key about his future move, and did not want anyone to know. He kept telling himself that nobody would care that he was leaving, so there was no reason to tell anyone and when the time came for his classmates to start the sixth year he wondered if any of them would even notice he was not among them.

As the train traveled further north the landscapes appeared more and more snow covered and it was soon dark outside. They were getting closer to Hogwart's now. Daedalus felt very strange and racked his brain trying to figure out why. His homework was finished, so there was no worry about receiving an incomplete grade for the assignments. It was a strange sort of nervousness that ran all the way through him. It hit him out of nowhere and that what was troubled him most about it. It was regret. He did not want to return to school, because he did not want to face the fact that he had not made a place for himself there. He had never really tried to make good friends, or get involved in sports or clubs, and now he was out of time. There was no chance to make up for it; he was leaving in four months. He could never make up for it. By the time the train was pulling into Hogsmeade, Daedalus felt like bad feelings were eating him alive from the inside out. He got ready to disembark and laughed quietly to himself about his fluctuating emotions, and imagined his mother standing behind him laughing hysterically at her own son's misery and weakness. He called himself a fool in his head all through the chilled carriage trip up the stone path to Hogwart's.

When he finally set eyes on the school again, with its many turrets and towers, some of the dark clouds in his mind parted enough to crack a smile at a joke one of the girl's in the carriage with him had made. He did not catch the entire joke but it had something to do with Professor Umbridge and a dragon's rear end. For reasons he could not explain, his mood returned to dark clouds upon passing into the entrance hall. Growing frustrated with his fluctuating moods Daedalus decided tonight's start of term feast was the perfect time to temporarily medicate the problem with food. It was a quick dash to the tower where the Ravenclaw dormitories were located to drop off his travel bag and an even quicker dash back to the great hall for the feast. As he always did, he took a seat at the very end of the Ravenclaw table far away from the teachers at the head table and the popular students who gathered toward the middle of the table. He ate everything he could get his hands on and savored both the flavor of the food and the distracting process that is eating. When he returned to the dormitory after pudding, he was so stuffed and tired that he shared only the briefest greeting with his fellow fifth year boys before falling into a sleep which would be full of strange dreams he could not remember when he woke.

Before the start of classes that morning Daedalus finalized his intended plan to not mention his move to anyone. He continued to justify this by telling himself constantly that nobody would really care. His plan, however, was ruined in his very first charms lesson of the new term. Professor Flitwick climbed on top of his desk and announced that he had some unhappy news which caused the class to look up with interest at their diminutive head of house. Even Daedalus came out of the self-abusive reverie which had started in Arithmancy to pay attention. The end result, so Daedalus felt, was rather anti-climactic. For some reason he had instantly expected some dire news involving Voldemort. Perhaps he was not the only one in the class thinking the same thing, but they were all mistaken.

'I am afraid one of your fellow Ravenclaw's will be leaving us at the end of this OWL year,' he squeaked.

Only a few members of the class seemed to find this interesting, the rest let out quiet groans and Daedalus felt validated in his belief that they had been expecting, perhaps hoping, for some more substantial news. It had never occurred to him until this moment what a poor seating choice he had made in this room. Sure, he sat at the back as usual, but he was on the opposite side from the door. There was no way to escape unnoticed. The oak door may as well have been in Ireland for how far he was. Daedalus knew that he would have to get along with whatever was about to take place.

'Who is it Professor?' inquired Padma Patil.

'Me,' said Daedalus flatly and somewhat angrily.

'You never told us you were leaving,' said Terry Boot. To Daedalus' surprise he sounded almost hurt. Daedalus supposed that when you spent a good part of five years with someone, you didn't actually have to be great friends with each other to want to be up to date on their lives. Daedalus became a bit confused by his own logic, but thought that Terry deserved a reply for showing interest.

'I wasn't going to tell anyone,' he said while glancing at Flitwick, 'so much for that.'

Flitwick looked rather puzzled. 'Why would you not want to tell your classmates?' he inquired.

The Professor's question was a good one, and one Daedalus was not sure he could answer it. All of a sudden he did not understand it himself. Not telling his fellows had more to do with a want to feel self-pitying and isolated. In reality, the more he thought about it, what difference did it make to tell them? Perhaps he was afraid of something like this, he thought. Maybe I've been frightened they might actually show interest. If this was this case, it seemed his fears might be realized.

'I'm sorry', he began, 'I just didn't think it was worth mentioning.'

Some of the class were still not paying much attention and those who were seemed to be offended, as though Daedalus had just accused them all of something. He scanned the room, his classmate's faces, and his own feelings. There could be no doubt now, he felt guilty for his selfishness.

'Where are you going?' said Mandy Brocklehurst in a tone more accusatory than curious. For someone who refused to believe the Dark Lord had returned, it had sure just sounded as though she thought he was running away.

'Does it really matter? I'm moving away and I'm not coming back.'

'Why though?' Mandy persisted.

'I don't know, you would have to ask my mother that question. I only found out about this at Christmas. I honestly don't know much other than I am moving to Canada after OWL's are done with.'

Perhaps Flitwick had sensed Daedalus' frustration because he stepped into the conversation and changed the topic. 'There is still plenty of the year remaining before anyone goes anywhere. In the mean time, I suggest we work on our lessons as there is much to teach and to be taught.'

What frustrations the Professor had sensed Daedalus could not be sure. Being questioned was not what he was bothered by. In fact, the surprising show of interest made him feel a bit better. It was not the questioning, it was the fact he had no real answers to give that frustrated him so much. All he knew was the destination. He did not know how he was getting there let alone what would happen once he arrived. This had all started with his mother. He blamed her for all his confusions, and yet he knew he cared deeply for her and respected how hard she worked to provide for them both. These realizations only served to muddle his thoughts further.

Over the next few weeks Daedalus began to develop actual friendships with his fellow Ravenclaws, particularly the other boys in his year after they discovered that Daedalus had been hiding a great knowledge and fandom of Quidditch. Daedalus had made the mistake of letting his love of the game slip to Padma Patil who, although being very nice did enjoy talking. It only took ten minutes for her to repeat the news to five more people. Michael Corner joked that this was almost an eternity compared with how quickly she had spread the news of his dating Ginny Weasley. Daedalus had attended every match played since he came to Hogwart's, but could not explain why he never told anyone how much he enjoyed the game before. He supposed it must never have come up in conversation, or he simply had not engaged with the others enough. Sometimes, if you shy away from people you miss opportunities to find common bonds. This was advice he had been given once, meant to encourage him to be more social. But Daedalus had used it more as an instruction on how to avoid socializing. That is what he decided had happened. Somewhere along the way he must have missed a chance, or avoided one, or the others did the missing, to find common ground. He knew quite well why he never told anyone that he dreamed of being a Quidditch chaser. He blamed himself in the end for the lack of social contact, and once again had a realization of how much time he had let get away.

During the course of these few weeks of term, although he was forging new friendships not everything was going in a positive way. Despite the new social aspect of his life (he had attended two parties already) he was constantly feeling distracted and frustrated during lessons. He could not help but feel that it wasn't worth the effort anymore. What good would OWL's be next year in another country? Making friends did not have the effect he would have expected. It was great but it served mainly to show him what he was leaving behind. As he figured it, it had taken him nearly five years and an impending move to get these friends, and it could only get more difficult elsewhere. This caused him to feel angry: anger which he kept internal and directed almost entirely at his mother. He did however reserve a decent amount of it for himself.

It was a combination of events that brought Daedalus' focus back. The first happened while in a Transfiguration lesson. He was resting his face in his hands, thinking of nasty things to say to his mother when his wand, which was resting on the desk let loose a jet of blue sparks which struck the curtains and set them ablaze. He received two detentions for carelessness and for nearly injuring Terry Boot who fortunately thought it was quite funny. Professor McGonnegal was certainly not amused. Her lips were pursed so tightly they were at risk of vanishing altogether. This earned Daedalus the week-long nickname of 'Sparky' among his classmates, none of whom seemed to care how it had happened. Daedalus on the other hand was deeply concerned and went to the library during the morning break to check out books on anger management. The fact that his wand had gone off while not in his hands had shaken him. He knew he would need to try to put his anger aside for the moment or risk a repeat of Boxing Day.

His grades had been going steadily downhill but thus far none of his teachers had said anything, they simply gave guilt-driving scowls as they handed back homework or tests. What really got Daedalus back on track was a meeting Professor Flitwick had requested after the most recent charms lesson. It took a great deal of effort on Daedalus' part to pretend that his lackluster grades were not bothering him. He had never been driven to be the best in his year, but he certainly liked to keep up near the top. He knew that something had been wrong in that lesson. Professor Flitwick had been handing back essays but instead of handing Daedalus his essay he gave him a note which read 'please see me after class'. He figured his grade must have been poor. He certainly had not put much, or really any effort into it. In fact, at this moment he could not even remember what the topic of the essay had been.

It is hard to believe that you could be in trouble when your teacher sits on top of pillows to look across his desk at you. Daedalus certainly thought it funny at first. That is until the Professor put his essay down on the table and slid it to him. On top of the scroll of parchment, in glistening red ink was a large 'D', which in Wizarding school terms stood for 'dreadful'. Daedalus stared at it in shock. In his mind, there was a difference between not caring about grades and receiving 'dreadfuls'. The kindly Professor said nothing, and waited patiently for a reply from his pupil.

Not knowing how to react to such an awful grade he was unsure of what to say and instead fidgeted uncomfortably and ran his hands through his short hair. 'Is this why you wanted to see me, sir?' he asked. He knew the question was asinine, but it was all he could come up with other than 'A dreadful … fuck me'.

'For the most part,' Flitwick began, 'but I think there is more at play here. I certainly do not believe that you did not grasp the subject matter however, it has come to my attention that I am not the only teacher in this school who has noticed a marked decrease in your academic performance this term.'

Daedalus attempted to respond to this but found his mouth had gone rather dry. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

'I am not meeting with you to chastise you, to demean you, or to condescend. I am also not the only teacher who believes that this drop in grades may rest with things external to the school.'

'You just bloody well know everything then don't you?' blurted Daedalus before he could stop himself. Professor Flitwick did not react at all. He sat on top of his cushions and smiled. It was a gift of Flitwick's to create comfort in place of conflict: an odd quality in a former dueling champion, but a welcome one in Daedalus mind. 'I'm sorry Professor,' he mustered.

'Not at all, young man. I have been teaching for many years, and I hope it does not disappoint you to hear that I have heard much worse rudeness than that.'

'I could put more effort into my rudeness if you like, Professor,' laughed Daedalus. His mood had somehow shifted from bitter to jovial in a matter of seconds. He was apt to believe that Flitwick had hit him with a cheering charm when he wasn't looking.

'I do not believe that is necessary. What I would like to see is an increased effort in your school work.' It was one of those follow-up sentences that you can predict ahead of time but it was to the point and Daedalus appreciated that. He did not like it when people danced around a subject, though hypocritically he did that himself a fair amount. 'It is my theory that your upcoming move is weighing on your mind, or perhaps driving you to distraction.'

'You would be quite right Professor.'

'It is understandable in my opinion. What I do not understand is why you have been consciously letting your grades slip. You can only be doing it consciously. Someone as bright as you can only achieve a 'D' if it is the desired result. I do not doubt that were I in your position, I would be quite upset, finding out such large news on such short notice and so abruptly as was my impression but you could potentially damage your future by continuing this way. Canada follows the same grading practice as here at Hogwart's, and OWL's will matter there just as much as they do here. They are extremely important.'

After all the dire warnings about OWL's at the start of the year Daedalus had been quite hopeful they were now in the past but apparently these exams were just as important across the pond. Still, this new did not make him feel as though he should change his recent ways.

'Answer me one question if you would Daedalus.'

'Certainly Professor.'

'Why are sabotaging yourself? What purpose is it serving you to not perform as you are capable? I apologize, that's two questions.' He fixed his young student with a calm and attentive gaze, the kind which only those who truly care can give.

Daedalus found himself at a loss for words. He could not think of an answer to these questions. There did not seem to be a logical reason for the way he had been behaving though he wracked his brain trying to think of one. It seemed so obvious to him now, how juvenile he had been of late. The hypocrisy of this was not lost on him. He always wanted to be treated more like an adult, and here he has been behaving like a child in a temper tantrum. He saw his behavior much like a toddler who will hold their breath when they do not get the sweets they want. In reality, the toddler is only harming him or herself, and Daedalus realized he had been doing much the same thing. He was hurting himself rather than dealing with his situation in a mature fashion.

'I don't think I can give you an answer Professor,' he said uncertainly.

'If you could have I would have been concerned. Sometimes we behave in ways that defy logic, though it seems to make sense to us at the time. I remember it happened to me when I was younger. It still happens now and then,' he said with a smile. 'But not as often,' he added with a wink.

'I don't suppose you would let me do the essay over again Professor?' he asked quietly.

'I would like your assurance that you will do your best to catch up in all of your classes first.'

'I give you my word Professor,' said Daedalus, and he meant it.

'You have three days to redo this essay,' smiled Flitwick. 'Now be on your way, it is nearly time for supper.'

Daedalus thanked the Professor for giving him the chance, and for speaking with him, and after supper that day he set out to the library to keep his promise. It was hard work over the next few days, getting caught up in all his lessons. He truly did not realize how much he had slacked off until now. The weekend came and he still spent his time buried in books and notes, practicing spells in empty classrooms whenever the opportunity presented itself. The Ravenclaw common room was buzzing with an impromptu party that Saturday evening but Daedalus went down to the library again despite the objections of Terry Boot. In less than a week he had gone from never visiting the library to being seen there almost every free second. There was only one person who seemed to be in there more than he was; a Gryffindor girl with bushy brown hair named Hermione who was in is Arithmancy class. After supper on Wednesday, she held the door for him as they both entered Madam Pince's book museum. He said 'thank you' and entered, it was a perfectly normal exchange and it was doubtful that either expected anything more to happen. In that event, they would both have been wrong.

Daedalus took a seat at a small two person reading desk at the end of one of the book aisles. It was his favorite spot in the library as it was as far away from Madam Pince's desk as you could be. He pulled out his books and went to work. Few people passed by him as this particular aisle was mostly filled with muggle and muggle-oriented works. As he was packing his things back up to head to the dormitory the same girl who had held the door for him came down the aisle and browsed the various volumes on the shelves. He got up from his chair and turned to leave when something very heavy hit him in the side with such force that his all-covers flew clean off. Everything happened so fast, as he looked for the glasses he met the eyes of the girl who was walking over, no doubt to help. It happened in an instant, as their eyes met, inside Daedalus mind flashed a number of scrambled images; a bathroom containing a large mountain troll, a dentist's office, what looked like the Yule Ball, and a couple of flashes of a boy with flaming red hair. He shut his eyes as quickly as he could and began frantically feeling for his glasses while the boy who had knocked into him stammered many apologies and something about a toad named Trevor.

'Here,' said the girl, and Daedalus felt a hand on his own which placed the glasses in his palm. He put them on as quickly as he could.

'Thank you,' he said, as non-chalant as possible. But as he got to his feet, as he met her eyes from behind his glasses and the look on her face made his legs feel weak. It was a look which mingled shock and comprehension. She knew. There was no doubt in his mind that she understood.

He turned to leave. He wanted to get away as quickly as possible. The boy who had run him over was blocking the way. He had a round face and was quite plainly upset by what he had done. 'I'm so sorry. I wasn't looking up I was chasing my toad, he got away from me.'

'It's alright,' said Daedalus, 'it could have happened to anyone.' He tried to get past the boy but he was still in the way. In his head he was thinking less pleasant things about the boy for causing this situation.

'Is there any way I can make it up to you?

'Honestly, don't worry about it. I've got to get back to my dormitory now.' Daedalus pushed past the boy only to come face to face with the vulture like Madam Pince who was plainly incensed that her books had been forced to bear witness to such clumsiness.

'What's the meaning of this?' she squawked.

'We're sorry Madam Pince,' said the girl named Hermione.

'Yes, we are,' said Daedalus.

'You two, leave now,' she said pointing at Hermione and Daedalus. 'You,' she said pointing to the round-faced boy, 'I need to have a chat with you about animals in the library.' The boy gave a tiny squeak as she ushered him off to her office. Daedalus turned his back on the girl without a second thought and walked as fast as possible out of the library and down the corridor. He did not hold the door for her as she followed, and she kept following now even though he was going toward the Ravenclaw tower.

'Wait,' she called from behind him. Daedalus picked up his pace. 'Please wait,' she called and still he walked faster. 'If you don't stop I'm going to start screaming about what I've seen,' she said causing Daedalus to stop dead. She wouldn't, would she? Would anyone understand what she would say? He turned around and walked swiftly back toward the girl.

'And what is it you think you've seen?' he snapped at her. He was tempted to go for his wand, not that it would do much good. He did not know how to alter people's memories and aside from that, he was aware that this girl was the cleverest student in his year.

'First of all,' she began, 'there is no reason for you to be concerned. I'm not going to tell anyone. I just want to talk to you. Your name is Daedalus, right?'

He looked at her face. She looked trustworthy, but his mother always warned him that looks can be deceiving. 'Yes, that is my name, but please don't call me that. Call me Jamison if you need a name.'

Clearly the girl was curious as to why he preferred a different name, but for the moment she had more on her mind. 'Who knows about your condition?' she asked quickly.

'If it's an interrogation you want then I'm going to my dormitory. You know about me now, and you can do with that what you will.' He was amazed at how confident his voice sounded just then. He almost thought it had been a different person speaking.

'You're right. I should not have started with that question. The staff must know I'm sure.'

'Umbridge doesn't.'

'I wasn't counting that cow,' said Hermione and Daedalus laughed.

'I always thought that to call her a cow was insulting to cows,' he replied and Hermione laughed.

Daedalus smiled. He was placated for the moment by this friendly exchange but underneath the smile was a quavering fear. Knowledge is power, his mother said, and this girl had more knowledge of him than most and he had no idea what she would do with it. This conversation was going to happen. It needed to happen if he was to know where she stood. One way or another he needed either realize or resolve his fears. There was no point in delaying the inevitable. 'From what I know of you, I'm sure you have a very thorough description logged in your brain about my condition,' he said, with a bitterness he had not intended. The girl nodded with a slight blush of modesty on her cheeks, or perhaps it was impatience. He was actually quite curious to find out how much she knew, as nervous as it made him. He would not refer to his condition as something common knowledge among most wizards.

'You have Dragovir's disorder,' she stated plainly.

'Correct.'

'Are you a vampire?' she asked quietly.

'No,' he said defensively. She eyed him curiously. 'I'm not a vampire, I'm just pale. I can't deny that there is vampire blood in my family though. It's why I'm so pale.'

'I don't care if you are a vampire,' she said kindly.

'I'm sure you don't, but you must realize that if I were actually a vampire I would not be able to attend classes during the day, nor would I be allowed to attend school here.'

'That's true, I apologize. But you have vampire blood in you?'

'Yes. And it's a disease which only affects vampires of wizarding descent or vice versa.'

'So you keep it hidden because you don't want anyone to think you're a vampire?'

'That is one of many reasons. What else do you know about Dragovir's?'

She took a deep breath and began a quite thorough oration of what could only have been memorized from a medical journal. 'It is a deadly disorder which until recently as new treatments became available had a one hundred percent mortality rate. It is characterized by massive and often catastrophic releases of magical energy referred to as spurts or paroxysms which can begin manifesting as early as infancy. Only with the advent of new treatments can these outbursts hope to be controlled. There have only been three cases of Dragovir's in the past fifty years in Britain and all three of those afflicted are still alive, living normal lives.'

'I'm the fourth,' he frowned.

'Really? That's fascinating.'

'I disagree,' said Daedalus flatly.

'Oh, yes … I'm sorry. I only meant …'

'From an academic point of view?' he asked and she nodded. 'I suppose from that perspective I can't argue with you. I should also point out that those two of those three people are institutionalized in St. Mungo's.'

'What?'

'Apparently that is what a normal life is to a medical writer,' said Daedalus sadly.

'Have you ever had a spurt?' she asked quietly.

Taken aback by the question he only managed a very unconvincing 'no', and became instantly irritated that he had been caught off guard and betrayed himself. It could not have been more obvious to the girl that he had just lied to her. Fortunately for Daedalus he noticed an out, walking up the corridor toward them.

There were now some Ravenclaw students making their way up the corridor toward where the two were standing. Clearly it was now late and students were heading back to their common rooms to wind down for the night. The students made their way further up the stone floor of the corridor but Hermione and Daedalus remained still. Neither thought it would matter to be seen together here, but it also seemed a good time to part ways.

'I promise I won't tell anyone. Can we speak again after our next Arithmancy lesson?' she asked hopefully.

'Why should I believe you? If even one person finds out, I'm out of here with Umbridge in charge. The only reason I was allowed to come in the first place is because of Dumbledore. How do I know I can trust you? Am I supposed to trust you because you're friends with Harry Potter?'

This seemed to upset her a bit. He had managed to be calm for their conversation, but now as it was about to end his anxiety was taking over. He had no interest in being discovered. He would likely be institutionalized if he were found out. It was not known to the Ministry of Magic that he was afflicted, you see. His mother had kept it a tight secret from the time it had been discovered.

'Well,' she began, 'there's this club I started. It's a secret. I could tell you about that. Would you trust me then?'

'I already know about that,' he replied and instantly the girls face turned the way Daedalus' must have looked back in the library. It was a look of shock and terror, the kind of look that only the exposure of a well hidden secret can bring. 'Now you understand how I feel,' he said.

'How could you know?' she asked in a shaky voice.

'Let's talk after the next Arithmancy lesson and I will explain. I promise that your secret is quite safe and I only know by bizarre coincidence. But now, we can promise to keep each other's secrets.'

'That seems more fair,' she said, the unease in her voice still present. The parted ways still quite unsure of each other, but both were looking forward to their next lesson with Professor Vector.

Later that evening, as Daedalus was alone in the washroom he looked at his reflection in the mirror and removed his glasses. It had been so long since he had looked at himself without them. With the glasses on, his eyes appeared as any eyes would though perhaps a bit more blue. Staring at himself in the glass the site of himself caused shivers. Where his eyes should be white, they were black like the night sky. The ring of blue remained, and though there were none right now, sometimes red clouds would appear amongst the darkness. It was the only outward physical sign of his disorder. It was seeing himself this way, in his natural state that he hated. He looked inhuman, and he felt like it in turn. He ran his tongue over his top teeth. They were mostly straight but two were sharper than the others. It had been a while since he had shrunk them. He used his wand to even them out. He splashed his face and dried it with a towel, replaced his all-covers and went to sleep wondering if Hermione had truly realized every thing about his disorder. Had she noticed that he had, unintentionally, used legilimency?


	5. Chapter 5

_Authors note: I would love to claim that the long delay between chapters has resulted in a great improvement in quality. Sadly, I don't think that is the case. But I should not be too self-depricating. I have a much better idea about what happens after he leaves Hogwart's than what happens while he's there so it has been quite difficult getting to this point. I am looking forward to the next chapter where I get to write Dumbledore. This is a bit of an abbreviated chapter but I thought I ought to split this one and the next as it may otherwise have been too long … or have taken me too long to write. I think it is something about my job that zaps my imagination. At any rate I hope you enjoy chapter 5 … and I hope that chapter 6 will not take me months to write._

Chapter 5: After Arithmancy

Daedalus barely slept after his meeting with Hermione Granger, and when he did finally nod off he was greeted with images of himself trapped behind bars. Everywhere he turned there were bars of cold steel rising like trees from a ground of cement. The bars rose as high as he could see, above the clouds. There seemed to be no ceiling to the cage. There didn't need to be with bars that high, he could see no way of escaping. He grabbed the bars shaking them frantically to no avail. He ran to the other side, and again he shook them, this time screaming with all his might. Nothing happened, aside from Anthony Goldstein shaking him awake asking if he was alright. Daedalus thanked him for his concern. His eyes were concealed behind a night mask, a rather odd site on a teenage boy, but as he could not sleep with the all-covers on they were a necessary accessory. He told Anthony he had been having a strange nightmare. Nobody questioned him any further. It was not the first bad dream he'd had, and the other boys knew Daedalus preferred not to discuss them. This dream with the bars was a new one. However, it could not have been more obvious to Daedalus what the meaning behind it was or that he felt very much the same being awake.

The two days leading up to his next Arithmancy lesson felt more like two months. He had agreed to meet Hermione after class to continue their conversation and he could see no way out of it. If he avoided her, or cut class, would she then expose him? After all, he did not really have anything to hold over her. She most likely expected that he did. He had implied it though it had been a falsehood. He knew about the club she had mentioned, but he truthfully had no idea what type of club it was. All he knew was that they met in the Room of Requirement. If he were to be honest with her in terms of how he discovered this, she could get him in even more trouble. Once the class finally arrived, time did not move any quicker. Daedalus felt as though Professor Vector had been lecturing about the 'principle of three' for days before the bell rang to end the class.

Not wanting his classmates to ask him questions about why he was chatting with the only Gryffindor in the class, Daedalus purposely dropped his books and made a business of packing them up again. Hermione it seemed had done much the same thing. They were the only two left in the room. She nodded to the door and together they sidled quietly out of the room.

'That was a good lesson,' said Hermione to break the ice. 'Did you end up with three pages of notes as well?'

'Yeah … bizarre that principle of three.' Daedalus winced at this rather banal comment. He desperately wanted to sound clever around this girl. He was not sure why.

'Bizarre but fascinating,' was her reply which left Daedalus feeling a bit better in his own lack of wit. They walked down the corridor in silence for a moment (three meters by Daedalus' estimate) before Hermione blurted, 'How do you know about the DA?'

'The what?' replied a puzzled Daedalus.

'Our club,' she said waving her hand, 'it's called the DA. How did you find out?' She stopped dead in her tracks forcing Daedalus to stop and turn back.

'What does the DA do?'

'You told me you knew. You lied to me and here I've been worrying for days over nothing.' Her lips were pursed in a rather McGonnegal like way and a small amount of hysteria seemed to be escaping her.

'Wait, I can explain,' he said.

'Explain then!' she replied coldly.

It took a fair bit of time to explain but he told her the entire story. In his mind there wasn't much point in holding back at this point. He had never told this to anyone before and he found it a great relief to get it off his chest. A little over two years ago while home on summer vacation he went up to the attic to explore. He was looking for old family photos on a whim. He looked through a few dusty boxes before noticing a pile of smaller boxes off in the far corner. In the bottom most box he found an invisibility cloak: an invisibility cloak with a large burn hole in it. It appeared more like an invisibility poncho. He tried it and aside from the hole, it still functioned. It had taken Daedalus nearly two years to repair it, though it was far from an expert patch job. The whole was patched but it was not what one would call invisible. It was better described as a transparent blur. As it was hard to notice this problem unless you looked directly at it, Daedalus had braved occasionally roaming the halls at night to explore in secret. One night, as he explained to Hermione: He had been heading toward the Room of Requirement (which he had discovered on a previous sojourn in late September) Daedalus noticed some students, including Hermione leaving the room. This was the truth, he even offered to show her the cloak but she seemed suspicious. Daedalus figured he had best find out why before Hermione informed the staff of his cloak. He did not want to explain to his mother how he had gone into the attic, found the cloak and taken it for himself. She had forbidden him to go into the attic to look through the boxes unaccompanied. According to her they were all cursed.

'You don't believe me?' Daedalus asked her.

'I do actually. It's just that we check that the coast is clear before anyone leaves, what with Umbridge around.'

'I don't think I can explain that,' he began, 'unless …'

'Unless what?' she asked. Both thought for a moment and at nearly the same time a look of comprehension dawned on both their faces.

'The potions,' they said simultaneously and shared a grin.

'The Moor's Fog potion,' Hermione began, 'it is very similar to a camouflage draught. They share a number of common ingredients. And …'

'And with my vampire lineage,' Daedalus continued, 'I am naturally difficult to trace or plot with magic.' The two shared another grin, the type clever people share when they realize that something implausible is actually true.

'You should join us. The DA I mean.'

'That's not a good idea,' said Daedalus sadly.

Hermione looked surprised for a moment, either from the abrupt response or that he had turned down her offer. After considering for a moment she nodded her head in understanding. 'Yes, I suppose not.'

As they walked together they made casual conversation about what courses they were taking, what they thought OWL's would be like and what NEWT's they planned to take. Hermione was planning on taking at least two more than Daedalus was. They continued to walk rather aimlessly around the corridors, the occasional silence broken by the random whispers of the portraits. This happened to be a free period they shared. The only free period in Hermione's schedule, he learned. When they ended up in the Owlery Daedalus had a strange feeling they had not been wandering aimlessly at all. She had led him here with purpose. This realization put him slightly on edge, wondering what she could want to use this spot for.

'This is a good place to chat,' she said and Daedalus marveled at just how quickly anxiety can take over one's mind.

He supposed it was a good place to chat. You could hear if anyone was approaching, and peak time for the Owlery was early morning and after dinner so it was unlikely they would be disturbed. The only things you had to contend with were the chill wind, the soft hooting, and the somewhat unpleasant smell.

'Will you tell anyone about the DA?' she asked.

Daedalus raised an eyebrow at this. 'No, of course not. What you know about me is much worse than what I know of your club. Besides that, I love that you are doing something right under Umbridge's nose.' Hermione blushed with pride at those last words.

'If you are taking precautions nobody should care about your condition.'

'Perhaps they shouldn't,' he said, 'but they do. If it got out everyone would think I was a vampire, a danger, something that needed to be locked away and isolated.' Well, he thought, they might be right about that last one.

'But you can walk around in the sun. It's obvious you're not a vampire.'

'True, but you even asked me if I was one and you are the cleverest girl in the school.' She blushed again, this time perhaps from embarrassment. 'Look at Professor Lupin. He was harmless but the general public didn't care. They still don't care. I can't escape the stigma of my condition anymore than he can. If I were to walk around without my glasses on, all most people would see is a diseased freak. A diseased freak that must surely be after their life and their blood.'

A silence followed this. Daedalus found he was breathing heavy. He had never vented like that before. At least not to anyone other than himself. He had just opened up to a virtual stranger, and yet he did not want close up yet. Or perhaps he couldn't. Hermione stood near by and observed him. The occasional hoot or flutter of wings floated above them. He could see in her face that she was not passing judgment. If nothing else, he could see that.

Daedalus made his way to a stool in the corner and sat down rather heavily. 'You know', he began, while staring intently at the floor. 'Not a day goes by that I'm not afraid something will go wrong with me, that I'll have a spurt in the middle of class or something. Maybe I shouldn't be allowed in school,' he finished and hung his head into his hands.

Hermione walked over to where he sat with his face still buried in his hands. She placed a hand on his shoulder and said: 'I'm not afraid of having you around.'

Daedalus sat up straight and smiled at her, sniffling slightly. 'But you're a Gryffindor so you're just brave,' he joked.

'Well I was almost a Ravenclaw, and I'm still not scared. There are more things to be scared of today than a boy wizard with black eyes.'

Daedalus laughed at that. 'Well put,' he said though he was unsure if he believed it. 'So shall we continue keeping each other's secrets?' he asked her.

'Yes, I think so,' she grinned, 'not a word to anyone.'

'A promise charm then?' he asked her.

She looked blankly at him in response. He had expected her to. To the best of his knowledge, Daedalus had invented the basic promise charm. 'It's alright that you don't know it. I invented it.'

'I'm impressed. But of course you are named for a mythological inventor.'

'You really are clever,' he laughed, 'not many people catch on to that if you can believe it. I do not like my name much but I can't pretend that I don't like to invent, because I certainly do. Mind you this promise charm is by far the best one I have been able to come up with.'

'How does it work?' she asked curiously.

'It is quite simple. You cast it on yourself, so I will do it first and you can just repeat it. Just remember to change the relevant information,' he said as he raised his want directly over his head. 'Promitto' he called. A bright yellow light emerged and hung at the end of the wand as he kept his arm upright. 'I, Daedalus Jamison Indree here by promise to tell no one of the DA, its existence, its members or its purpose.' He brought his arm down in one swift movement. The light grew brighter for a moment then disappeared back into the wand.

'What happens if you tell someone?'

'My wand will explode,' he replied simply. She seemed uneasy with his explanation. 'You will get singed and perhaps get a handful of splinters. Oh, and of course you will need to purchase a new wand.'

Obviously determined to show Daedalus how trustworthy she was, Hermione cast the spell on herself, changing the necessary parts of the speech. Muggle born or not, it was obvious to Daedalus as he watched that she was a powerful witch. The type you are glad to place trust in. 'Well that's that,' she said after the spell. 'We should be getting down to dinner now I suspect.'

Daedalus looked at his watch and was amazed at how much time had passed. He also had not realized how hungry he was. They set off down the staircase together, with Hermione asking questions about what else he had invented. He had never been able to share this with anyone, or rather, had never chosen to share it. His mother knew of course, though she provided little encouragement. 'When you come up with something useful I will be happy to see it,' she once said. Daedalus explained to Hermione how thus far he had mostly been experiment with want grips and movements and how they can affect existing spells. He was about to tell her what he had discovered about the Reductor curse when a voice called his name from behind. It was not a voice he wanted to hear at that moment. The coolness of it, the drawl, one thing moving meant was that Daedalus would never had to hear the voice again come June.

'All right there Indree?' called the drawling voice.

'Fuck,' muttered Daedalus as he turned to face the approaching Draco Malfoy who was flanked as usual by the human mounds known as Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy eyed Hermione with malice before speaking again.

'Father tells me you won't be back next year. It's a shame you'll be gone. A worthy non-Slytherin is a hard thing to find,' he sneered at Hermione as he spoke.

If Daedalus had been happy to see Malfoy, he may have thought the look on Hermione's face was priceless. He knew what must be going through her mind. Draco Malfoy was being polite (or as polite as he could be) to someone: someone who was not a Slytherin at that. 'So why are you moving?' he continued, 'Father wouldn't tell me. I suppose your mum wants to get you away from filth like this.' He gestured airily toward Hermione. 'I can't say I blame her,' he sneered.

Hermione's face was red with fury, as was Daedalus' own. He knew he should say something. He knew he should stand up to Malfoy and defend his new friend but he would not – he could not. And he also knew he would hate himself for his inaction. Malfoy gave Daedalus a pat on the shoulder and took his cronies down the corridor toward the Great Hall. Between Hermione and himself there was nothing but red-faced silence. Their anger was blocking out the sounds around them: the wind whipping the windows, the students shuffling past to dinner. No noise was heard until Daedalus said, 'I'm sorry,' in an unnecessarily loud voice.

'You're friends with Draco Malfoy?' She was trembling slightly as she asked. Daedalus could not say he blamed her. He was certain that she would not have put up with Malfoy if he had not been present and he knew that sometimes it is hard to know how to react in the company of strangers.

'No, not remotely,' he replied flatly. 'I promised my mother I would be nice to him. My mother is quite friendly with Draco's dad you see (Hermione's mouth opened slightly at this) so she made me promise. I reckon Draco's dad must have done something similar because he certainly doesn't like me, and I quite despise him. I knew him before school, unfortunately,' he added.

Hermione looked as though she had stopped listening a few minutes ago. 'Your mum is friendly with Lucius Malfoy?' she asked slowly.

'Yes, for many years now. I don't quite understand it myself. The Malfoy's offered her support when my dad died, so they've stayed friendly since.'

Hermione appeared deep in thought. She seemed to be staring off at something far away, or perhaps something near by that only she could see. Daedalus was tempted to wave a hand in front of her face to make sure she hadn't gone comatose. 'What does your mother do?' she asked, returning from her reverie and almost startling him.

'She works in the Ministry of Magic as a Freelance Witch. Basically she goes where she is needed but she does have some fixed responsibilities like –

Hermione cut him off. 'So she is well connected, just like him.'

'What are you on about?' he asked politely.

'Nothing – nothing, they just have that in common is all,' she said evasively.

'Oh,' he exclaimed as he caught on, 'just so you know my mother is not a Death Eater.'

This took Hermione completely by surprise and she became momentarily flustered. 'That's not what I was thinking at all,' she stammered, 'I was just observing that … that they have things in common and that – it's just that Lucius Malfoy is,' she said realizing Daedalus was onto her.

'I know,' he said blandly.

'You know?'

'How could he not be? He's foul it should be obvious to anyone. But most people are blinded by his money. Most people can't see evil if it's shrouded in gold,' he said sagely.

'Does your mother know?' she asked curiously.

'She does I believe. Or she suspects at least. The Malfoys really helped us out when dad died so I think she may pretend they aren't actually bad,' he said thoughtfully. 'Perhaps we should head to supper now before we miss it,' he said as his stomach gave a loud, long growl. She nodded and so they turned and continued on their approach to the Great Hall.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak but Daedalus thought he knew what she was thinking so he said: 'She is not under the Imperius curse if that's what you're wondering.' He grinned at her.

'How did you know that is what I was thinking?' she asked and he answered quickly, 'Because it is what I would be thinking if I were you.'

'One of mum's jobs is to teach Magical Law Enforcement to throw off that curse. She began teaching me to do it when I was ten. She's quite manic about it actually. I had to pretend I couldn't do it last year when Moody was here so that I didn't get her into trouble.'

Hermione appeared shocked that a mother would put an unforgivable curse on her young son but she said nothing. They had finally made it to the oak doors of the Great Hall and the smell of supper and the chatter of students brought them back to reality. Class seemed so long ago now, as though they had been walking outside of time for the afternoon. With hunger calling them they pushed their way through the doors saying, 'See you next class,' at the same time before separating to join their house tables.

Being late for dinner Daedalus was unable to sit with his fellow fifth years, as he had started doing the previous month. He instead sat himself next to a fourth year girl with protuberant eyes who was humming dreamily and looking at the steak and kidney pie as though it were a text book. After the meal he was forced to take off to the library to begin work on a nasty essay Snape had set them on the uses of various sorts of animal bile in potion making.

When he returned utterly sick of bile to the Ravenclaw common room it was to find it surprisingly empty. There were a few students about, but nobody he knew well and so he went up to the dormitory with the idea that perhaps he would tidy his trunk. Upon climbing the stairs he discovered the other boys were already there, and seemed to be having a good laugh about something.

'Oi, Indree. Did Mandy find you?' called Michael Corner. The other boys attempted to stifle laughter at this, which made Daedalus rather suspicious.

'No,' he said warily while furrowing his eyebrows, 'why?'

'It's Hogsmeade this weekend,' said Terry.

'Yeah, I know.'

'And it's Valentine's Day as well,' said Anthony Goldstein.

'Yeah I know. What does that have to do with Mandy looking for me … oh,' he paused as he cottoned on. 'Oh!' he exclaimed.

'The last Hippogriff finally takes off,' laughed Anthony.

'Oh shut up _Goldy_,' Anthony flushed and Daedalus smirked. The other boys laughed. 'We all know that's what Padma calls you.'

'Shut it,' said Anthony but not with much conviction. He seemed to find it funny too or perhaps it was meant as a distraction as he grabbed a pillow off his bed and hurled it at Daedalus, who deflected it with his wand. This began a rather frenetic, magic assisted pillow fight which went on for nearly half an hour and ended only when Daedalus was hit with four large pillows and toppled over the nightstand shattering the water jug in the process.

'Reparo,' he said with breath heavy from laughter. The jug flew back together in an instant and Anthony used a different charm to dry the water on the floor. They were all red-faced, slightly breathless and laughing. Laughter had been in short supply recently with the recent announcement of the mass breakout from Azkaban. The matter had been discussed for hours in this room alone, and the news of it had hung like a heavy fog over their moods. It even distracted them briefly from the upcoming OWL's and the tyranny of the High Inquisitor. Daedalus noticed there were still many students who did not seem to think that a dozen escaped Death Eaters was front page news. But the boys in this room all thought it was highly suspicious, and perhaps a sign of dark times to come.

The Hogsmeade weekend of Valentine's Day came and went with Daedalus managing to avoid Mandy Brocklehurst by hanging around Zonko's most of the day. The other boys had dates, but this made it easier for Daedalus to blend in with the other students. The only real incident of the day occurred when Daedalus left Zonko's Joke Shop to go to the Three Broomsticks: crossing the High Street a crying Cho Chang barreled past him nearly knocking the shopping from his hands though she did succeed in forcing him to step in a rather deep and squelchy mud puddle. He spent the rest of the day (after cleaning his trainers) in a corner of the Three Broomsticks drinking butter beer and working on the book of Daily Prophet crossword puzzles he had purchased earlier.

It became more difficult to talk with Hermione Granger as February turned to March. Both needed to use their free period after Arithmancy increasingly more as OWL's approached. Early in March after class she handed him what he initially thought was The Daily Prophet, but upon unfurling it turned out to be The Quibbler. He looked down at the March issue and looking right back at him in a rather sheepish way was Harry Potter. Daedalus gave her an enquiring look to which she merely nodded at the magazine implying he should read it. He was only finishing the third paragraph when he exclaimed, 'Brilliant! This is brilliant. When did he do it?'

'Last Hogsmeade weekend,' she said blushingly.

'Your idea, I assume.'

'Yes,' she replied in a flattered voice, 'but Harry had to do the interview so he should get all the credit.'

'Fair enough, but I'll still give you some of the credit.'

The day after Hermione had given him the March edition of The Quibbler another Educational Decree was passed banning it, a move which did not surprise Daedalus or any other student who had read it to that point. That night he stayed up for an hour placing a spell on his copy that would turn it into a copy of a Ministry of Magic Rules and Regulations pamphlet until you reversed the spell: a counter charm of his own invention.

The Quibbler article replaced the escaped Death Eaters as the hot topic of conversation. By banning the magazine Umbridge had insured that every student would read it (Daedalus readily shared his own copy), though the students were quite clever about not discussing it where they might be overheard. Dormitories were the safest venue for discussion, and the fifth year Ravenclaw boys made much use of this fact. 'Half the ones Potter names as Death Eaters have kids here,' remarked Anthony Goldstein. 'Nott,' he pointed at the article, 'Crabbe, Goyle, Malfoy and those are just the ones in our year. They all come from Slytherin. Seems practical to chuck out the lot.'

'They can't do that,' said Terry reasonably. 'The school was founded on the belief that all wizards deserved to go to school.'

'Yeah, but you know the saying,' Anthony hunched and lowered his voice unnecessarily, 'there's not a witch or wizard who went bad that wasn't in Slytherin.'

'I don't think that is entirely true,' said Daedalus as he buttoned his pajama shirt. 'I mean it can't be completely true.' The other boys looked at him, obviously waiting for Daedalus to explain himself further. 'Look, I would never say that a lot of Slytherins don't turn bad. I'm just saying they can't all be bad, and not all dark wizards can come from that house. For starters, not all dark wizards come from Britain. Look at Grindelwald. And I don't think every wizard school in the world has a Slytherin house.'

'They could have something similar, or could be like Durmstrang and just try to make the whole school dark,' said Anthony. Daedalus imagined briefly his new school, picturing being sorted into a house like that: a house full of people like Draco Malfoy. And you thought you didn't fit in as a Ravenclaw, he said to himself.

'I think you're right Jamie,' said Terry Boot. It took Daedalus a moment to return from his own thoughts enough to remember that he went by Jamie among his classmates

. Being introspective is not always good for ones attention span. 'You always hear that saying "power corrupts" …' he left his sentence hanging.

'I guess it is possible,' said Michael Corner, 'I just cannot picture an evil Hufflepuff.' They all laughed.

'I can't really either, I am only saying it is possible,' said Daedalus. 'Slytherins are supposed to be ambitious, so essentially they seek power, and the powerful. The dark arts are nothing if not powerful so you can see the draw there. I know Gryffindors are supposed to be courageous and good, but that doesn't mean they couldn't get corrupted by power, like Terry said.'

'Yeah … like if they thought they could use the dark arts to help people, and just fell deep into it.'

Just then, and to everyone's surprise there came a knock at the door and tiny Professor Flitwick entered wearing a blue dressing gown and matching nightcap which was so long it fell to his heels. 'Good evening boys. I apologize for interrupting but I was asked to inform Daedalus that Professor Dumbledore would like to see him tomorrow at three o'clock. I believe it is regarding your school options for next year,' he added, reading the look of mild surprise on Daedalus' face.

'Er … thank you sir, I'll be there.'

'Excellent. Then I will bid you gentlemen a good evening. Mind you, don't stay up too late.'


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's note: Thank you for waiting patiently any of you out there who actually read this fic. I went back to university this year and got quite distracted. The same thing is most likely going to happen this semester as well. I'm taking one less course but seem to have about five times the work. I'd love to know how all you writer's out there manage school, jobs, and writing in your spare time. I only seem to have time for the first two._

_At any rate here is Chapter 6, which was written mainly back in September, except the end parts which were written more recently. We're finally getting to some bigger things and I hope you will all continue to be patient as I practice and move the story along. Enjoy._

Chapter 6: A Letter From The Professor

The boys did stay up too late. What else would teenage boys do? They were all puffy-eyed and tousle haired in the morning but none of them complained. They had continued their conversation about where dark wizards come from before moving on to the topic of Daedalus' meeting with Dumbledore. The other boys seemed to think moving to another school was an exciting prospect. Daedalus on the other hand became filled with trepidation at the very mention of leaving. He had taken so long to become a part of things, to be comfortable here at Hogwarts, and now he would need to give up that comfort in favor of the unknown. It was still a fun night spent speculating about what another school would be like. Daedalus possessed a vague knowledge of muggle Canada but had no idea about wizarding life in there. In fact none of them did, and that just made their speculations more random and more fun for them.

'Maybe they play snow Quidditch,' said Terry.

'I'm sure they must train you to fend off rabid beavers,' said Anthony. 'You know … in case they come after your wood.'

'Well you'd know all about things coming after your wood, right _Goldy_,' joked Michael.

'Do you think they've got a castle? Or maybe ices cave of some sort?' Terry inquired somewhere between jest and seriousness.

'On the plus side,' said Terry, 'they're probably way too nice there to have evil wizards. The worst they probably have is some bloke who'll turn your hair blue if you look at him the wrong way.'

Unlike the day of his first after class meeting with Hermione Granger, this day seemed to Daedalus to be skipping along at record pace. It was three o'clock before he knew it. He stood in front of the ugly stone gargoyle that would take him to Dumbledore's office. He took the note Professor Flitwick had given him this morning on which was written the password and an apology that he had forgotten to give it to Daedalus the night before. The gargoyle looked stonily at him as he paused. Daedalus was nervous about being alone with Dumbledore, perhaps more than just simple nervousness. It was not because he was afraid of course, but because he thought the Headmaster imposing and, perhaps there was a twinge of feeling unworthy of an audience with such a great and venerable wizard.

One more pause, one more breath, before he uttered, 'Fizzing Whizbee', in a low and hurried voice. The gargoyle sprang to life at once, spiraling upward toward Dumbledore's office. Daedalus stepped on and began to climb as the staircase continued to wind and grind itself upward.

Never having been to the Headmaster's office he was not certain of what to expect. Books, of course, he did expect to see books. He knocked and entered a large circular room filled with cases and the whirring of little contraptions. He found it almost impossible to believe he was seeing this with his own eyes. Very few students had the privilege of seeing the Headmasters office. Right now, amid his state of wonder he could not stop that familiar feeling of being unworthy of this privilege, standing there among the portraits of former school masters and various magical treasures.

On top of a perch to the right of the desk stood a bird that Daedalus recognized as a phoenix, and sitting in the tall chair behind the desk was Dumbledore in a red robe with his hands folded and his eyes twinkling. Daedalus started as he had been certain the Headmaster was not there when he entered the room. He looked back, and the door had closed behind him.

'I'm sorry sir, I didn't see you there,' he gasped.

'I should hope not. If you had, it would hardly have been a good job of sneaking in on my part.'

Daedalus cocked an eyebrow, betraying how puzzled he was as to why Dumbledore need to sneak into his own office until the Headmaster politely explained: 'I like to keep my comings and goings private, you see. I do apologize for arriving late to our meeting, but I am sure you can understand and relate to a liking of privacy. I know you occasionally travel the corridors at night.'

Daedalus made a rather involuntary and uncomfortable movement of guilt in his shoulders. He had always believed that no one in the school was aware of his after hours travels. He immediately thought he was to be punished. It was against the rules after all. When he looked back at Dumbledore however he realized this would not be the case. The Headmaster was simply smiling serenely.

'Not to worry,' he said, 'you are not here to be punished. I am more aware of what goes on in my school than you may believe. Personally I find a good quiet walk, can be good for the mind. Not that I advocate such rule breaking,' he added with a wink.

'Er … ,' was all Daedalus could manage.

'Oh dear, how rude of me, please have a seat.' He motioned to a chair in front of his desk. 'This is my phoenix, Fawkes,' gesturing to the bird on the perch.

'He's very impressive, sir,' said Daedalus rather in the manner of a military cadet.

'I like to think so,' said Dumbledore as he stroked the birds plumage causing Fawkes to let out what sounded like a cooing noise almost musical in nature. Dumbledore tented his fingers and surveyed Daedalus over his half-moon spectacles. 'So how do you feel about this new chapter in your life?'

'Er … well I'm getting used to the idea.'

'It is an exciting opportunity. To be able to experience Wizarding education in a different country is a wonderful opportunity, and so you are here that we may decide which will be the best fit for you. Of course it is easy for someone on the outside to say it should be exciting. I don't have to deal with any feelings and changes, but I do hope you will come to see this as a positive life event.'

'I'll do my best to make Hogwart's proud, sir.'

Dumbledore smiled. 'The sentiment is appreciated, and I am sure you will have great success. Just remember that it is more important to make yourself proud. And so I would suggest that you work for your own pride and esteem and then, in that way, you will show a good impression of this school and even more importantly of yourself.'

Daedalus grinned awkwardly. He had no idea what making himself proud would entail. He was having a hard time looking into the Headmasters eyes. Daedalus could not seem to make his eyes focus; they seemed to want to shift uncontrollably. Daedalus thought he was being paranoid, but he almost felt as though he were being scanned in some way. Before he had a chance to analyze this scanning feeling further Dumbledore began to speak again.

'There are two choices for your school next year. Your mother's appointment to Mattridale rules that one out. There is a school know as C-A-M-L, or the Canadian Academy of Magical Learning. It is commonly pronounced like camel, the animal I am told. It is one of the newest wizarding schools in the world and is located somewhere in the western region of the country. I am told it has a reputation for being quite rigid and strict, taking a strong focus on discipline and the core OWL, and NEWT level courses. They do not offer Muggle Studies, Divination, or Ancient Runes for example.' Daedalus simply sat in his chair attempting to take in all this information, and wishing he had brought a quill and some parchment with him. 'I have been in touch with the Headmaster, a man by the name of Ewyn Halversson. I have never met him personally but his reputation would seem to suit what I have told you about the school.'

'What do you mean by "a strong focus on discipline"?' asked Daedalus.

'My understanding is that their students follow a stringent daily routine, and that a student who wanders the corridors after hours would face very serious consequences,' he said looking disapproving but he did not elaborate. Daedalus was about to ask what he meant by "serious consequences" but Dumbledore simply went straight into describing the other school option.

'Arc's Point is the name of the other school you could attend. It is the oldest Wizarding school in North America and was founded by a wizard named Abrasax Arcand. Both the school and a nearby village are named for him. It is similar to Hogwarts in some ways as Arcand himself graduated from this school, though be began his education at Beauxbatons. The Headmistress is Lavada Madrigal, a witch I have met on a few occasions and hold in very high esteem. I will not deny that this school is my recommendation. They have a greater diversity of courses, and although it would still be an adjustment, it would not be as severe of a change as CAML might be. The decision is yours however. Your mother wished you to have the choice and I quite agree. So if you have any questions that I may answer to aid you, please do not hesitate to ask.'

Only one question sprang to Daedalus' mind. 'Were they informed of my condition?'

'Naturally,' Dumbledore said nodding.

'And they were willing to accept me anyway?'

'One school did not question it. The other I admit, was unwilling at first, but has decided to take you should you choose to attend.'

'Shall I guess that CAML was the unwilling school?'

'Indeed,' said Dumbledore softly, 'but I remind you that they have since realized it would be foolish to not admit you.'

'Would it?' asked Daedalus before he could stop himself.

Dumbledore looked down his long crooked nose, surveying Daedalus in what Daedalus might have described as an interested sort of way.

'Yes, it would be foolish,' he said sternly. 'Would you please take off your glasses for me?' he asked politely.

Caught off guard by the question Daedalus shifted uncomfortable in his chair and muttered a 'no' in an equally uncomfortable voice.

'I know what I am going to see. What are you afraid of?'

'If you know what you're going to see then why do I need to take the glasses off?' asked Daedalus trying to sound light hearted.

'Because there is no need to hide from me, and of course because I am the Headmaster of this school and I asked you politely.' Dumbledore sat back in his chair with an heir of certainty that his last words would have an effect.

Slowly Daedalus reached both hands to the all-covers, hanging his head as he did so. His hands trembled slightly, his slender fingers gripping the ugly eyewear and he slid them off his face and folded them in his lap. He stared intently at his knees, noticing a small fray in his robes and only after three steadying breaths did he look up and meet the gaze of Dumbledore. Out of the corner of his eye he could see a couple of the portraits make disapproving faces and lean over to whisper to one another.

'That wasn't so difficult was it?'

'No sir,' said Daedalus untruthfully, looking into the Headmasters eyes. Nothing was happening. No thoughts or memories that were not his own entered his mind.

Dumbledore wore a strange look on his aged face. One of both surprise and concern. 'Are you attempting to perform legilimency on me?' he asked. It was not an accusation. From the way he asked, Daedalus knew that the Headmaster thought it was involuntary.

'No sir, not intentionally,' said Daedalus turning his eyes away and once again spotting a couple of the portraits wincing at his look.

'Not intentionally?'

'No sir. That is just what happens when I make eye contact without my glasses on. My mother told me it was just another part of my condition.'

'I see,' said Dumbledore, 'but you do realize that in all the other reported cases of Dragovir's there are no mentions of that particular symptom.'

'I do sir. But as nearly all those diagnosed died very young, isn't it possible it is simply an undiscovered symptom?'

'It is certainly possible,' said Dumbledore cheerfully. 'Have you used this ability on anyone?'

'No sir, I would never,' said Daedalus adamantly.

Dumbledore smile and nodded in acceptance of the response. It was true that he had used legilimency on Hermione Granger but he certainly had not meant to. Daedalus had to admit he was curious as to how Dumbledore knew about this odd gift when in any other instance the person whose thoughts were read did not seem to notice what had happened.

'Now back to the matter at hand. Unfortunately I must ask you to make your choice of schools here and now. I do not like to pressure you like this but there are time constraints and paperwork that must be exchanged.'

'Well I trust you sir,' Daedalus began.

'Thank you,' said Dumbledore smiling, 'please continue.'

'So I would agree that the second school, Arc's … er … Point is the better choice for me.'

'Excellent, Lavada will be ecstatic. Speaking of which, I should send her word immediately.'

Dumbledore eyed Daedalus carefully as he rose from his chair. Daedalus stood up with a feeling that perhaps he may enjoy the move after all. At any rate he did not feel the dread he expected to feel. Not that he was feeling elated, just more of a general acceptance, he thought. Once you have made it to acceptance then there is nowhere to go but up, he rationalized. After all, was his father not killed when he was young? That was certainly an adjustment, a challenge to be faced, and once he finally accepted that his father would not come back, did it not make it easier? Yes, he had faced worse than a move overseas he told himself. But just when Daedalus thought he was comfortable in this acceptance Dumbledore spoke again, as Daedalus was fixing his knapsack to his shoulder.

'I do have something to give you before you go,' he said, looking almost reluctant at the idea.

'Sir?' For a brief moment Daedalus thought the Headmaster was going to give him a gift of some sort. Instead he opened a drawer of his desk and removed a letter addressed in red ink with no apparent sender information on it. It was addressed to _'The son of Fred and Romalda Indree'._

'This was sent to me to give to you,' explained Dumbledore. 'Don't bother trying to open it,' he added as Daedalus paused in his attempt to tear open the envelope. 'It will not open until after you leave platform nine and three quarters at the end of the year.'

'Why is that sir?'

'I imagine the sender did not want you to be pre-occupied so close to OWL's.'

'Why would it pre-occupy me? Who sent it to me? What does it say?' asked Daedalus so quickly it may have sounded like one word.

'I will not lie and tell you that I do not know the answers to those questions. I am afraid however that I cannot give them to you.'

'Why not?' asked Daedalus aggressively.

'Some truths cannot be told, they must be discovered or uncovered, and discover them you shall when the time comes.' Daedalus was utterly nonplussed. 'That reminds me,' said Dumbledore pleasantly, 'I do not particularly want you to be distracted with your OWL's coming up either.'

There was a brief 'swoosh' sound and the next thing Daedalus saw was Dumbledore looking seriously and apologetically into his eyes. Then he spoke, 'I apologize that I cannot tell you any information and that I will not be able to help you on this path. I am going to modify your memory so that you will not remember anything about the letter until you return home. The letter will remain in your knapsack but it will be invisible to you. I could not tell you the truth because I could not have blocked that memory from your mind. Some truths are too great to be blocked from the human mind. You will remember these words once you are back in the muggle world. You may trust Lavada Madrigal. Good luck to you, Daedalus.'

A moment later Daedalus rose again from his chair remembering nothing about a letter or any speech Dumbledore may have just given. In his mind he believed, in fact, that he had only just finished discussing his school options. Fixing his all-covers back on he turned back to the Headmaster and said, 'It has been an honor to attend this school, Professor.'

'It has been an honor to have you among us,' he bowed. 'I expect you will receive information from Arc's Point school early in the summer. Best of luck in your OWL's and in all you do,' he said kindly as he ushered him to the door.

The end of his meeting with Dumbledore seemed to cause time to move exponentially quicker. In seemingly no time after their meeting Dumbledore had been forced out (though not before overcoming the High Inquisitor, the Minister for Magic, and two Aurors). Dumbledore's escape had been a great topic of conversation throughout the school, and a great many (Daedalus included) found it hysterical that Umbridge could not get back into his office. He caught her one day throwing an absolute fit at the gargoyle for which he ended up being given a detention with no real explanation. She cancelled his detention however after someone set off a massive amount of colorful, creative, and occasionally rude fireworks in the school. Daedalus arrived in the hall to witness the fantastic sight of a cornucopia of pyrotechnics sparking and whizzing away. He soon made his way to the other Ravenclaw boys who were nearly doubled over with laughter as Filch the caretaker swatted at a firework causing the broom in his hands to smoke and catch fire.

The students were able to enjoy both the fireworks and the misery they caused for Dolores Umbridge for quite a while. Whoever created those, Daedalus mused, must really know their stuff to have charmed the fireworks to last so long and be so difficult to defuse. All the while Daedalus remained busy revising for OWL's, of which he would be sitting ten. He was also busy trying to decide what he might continue with at NEWT level. He was certain he wanted to stop Care of Magical Creatures, and Astronomy. He was on the fence as to whether to continue with History of Magic and Muggle Studies. Originally he was certain he would drop them but now he was interested in how those courses may differ in another country. Occasionally he became distracted by this and forced himself to remember that he didn't even know what courses Arc's Point offered. For all he knew he would be taking Ice Fishing by magic next year.

It came to late April, April seventeenth in fact, Daedalus' sixteenth birthday. At breakfast that grey and blustery morning no less than three owls arrived. The first was Stephen who brought a package from home. The second appeared to be a delivery owl as it seemed to carrying a brown paper wrapped package in the shape of a book. The third owl, Daedalus noticed with pangs of guilt, was Gigi, Etienne's sister's owl. Stephen helped himself to a muffin, while the second bird flew off after ruffling its feathers importantly. When Daedalus removed the letter Gigi was carrying from her beak he received a nip that drew blood and perhaps the most frightening glare an owl can give.

'Ow,' he said shaking his hand in pain, 'I know. I'm a jerk.' Let me just read his letter so I can write a reply. Daedalus sucked the cut on his finger and fiddled awkwardly with opening the letter with his right hand. As if by some grand stroke of karma, he gave himself a nasty paper cut at which point he severely cursed whoever had invented parchment. He read the letter after making bandages of the napkins at the table.

_Dear Jamie,_

_Thank you for your gift at Christmas. I have not heard back from you and I wanted to know why. If you do not wish to write me anymore please tell me. I thought we were friends, so I sent you the photo. I just want to know if everything was ok._

_PS: Be careful of Gigi. She is very protective and Virginie told her I was upset. I hope she did not hurt you too bad. I enclosed a cloth strip you can use in case she bites you. Tie it around a cut and it will heal right away._

_Etienne_

Daedalus watched the blood drip guiltily from his fingers. Etienne had given him a friend, something that prior to this year he had never really had. He now realized, once again, how selfish he had been in not giving Etienne any news. The cut on his finger throbbed but he simply felt quite deserving of this pain. Gigi on the other hand, picked up the cloth strip in her beak and placed it in his hand. Clearly she thought he had bled enough. Clumsily he tied the cloth around the cut Gigi had given him to feel a curious tingling sensation. He untied the cloth bandage to discover the cut had healed perfectly although some dried blood remained. He used the cloth to heal the paper cut he had given himself and grasped a quill from his school bag. He began his letter to Etienne by apologizing profusely, and proceeded to explain in great detail everything that had transpired over the Christmas break (with any instances where he may appear weak or uncool carefully omitted). He explained all about the move, and what he had recently learned about his new school. He closed by thanking Etienne for the Christmas present and expressed the hope that Etienne would forgive him for being a jerk. The letter, once finished, was quite long, which made it too big for Gigi to carry in her beak so instead he tied it to her leg. She gave him a soft hoot of what he guessed was approval and flew off at once.

Stephen had waited patiently throughout this, having been busy devouring two muffins, some cereal and taking big gulps from his glass of water. The package Stephen brought contained a birthday card and a small book called "_The Pocket Guide to Defense'_, a small text regarding defense from the Dark Arts that, as one would expect, fits in just about any size pocket. He opened the letter and read:

_Dearest Daedalus,_

_I do apologize for not have written you this term. I do hope you understand. As you can imagine I have been quite busy readying us for our move. I just wanted to let you know that we are going to leave two days after you return, and we are going to make the journey on a muggle cruise ship. It takes longer than traveling by magic but I thought it might be a nice treat, and a bit of a vacation for both of us._

_Happy Birthday son and good luck on your OWL's in case I am unable to send another letter. I know you will do very well so long as you study hard. _

_PS: Congratulations on picking a school. I know it must have been difficult on such short notice and with little information, but I have heard great things about Arc's Point and I am certain you made the best choice. I cannot wait to see you again._

_With Love,_

_Your Mother_

Daedalus was puzzled briefly by this oddly kind and non-critical letter, but he decided that rather than being suspicious he would rather butter a crumpet than worry about the potential motivations of his mother.

He turned his attention to the delivery owl, who although looking haughty, also looked rather confused. It must have been confused as the book shaped package it carried was not for Daedalus at all. It was actually addressed to a Seamus Finnegan, a sandy haired boy Daedalus knew was a member of Gryffindor. 'You want that table over there,' said Daedalus pointing the owl in the right direction. It flew off at once. Daedalus lingered his gaze for a bit on the owl's destination before returning to his breakfast.

Once his birthday had passed there was little to do besides study. In a scene that would become school legend, Daedalus witnessed school pranksters the Weasley twins triumphantly escape Dolores Umbridge by flying their emancipated brooms from her clutches. Daedalus found he was more wowed by their courage than the magical swamp they had created, or their marvelous fireworks. Everyone but Umbridge and Filch had discovered who the creators of the fireworks were. Those were envious bits of magic to be sure, but he could not imagine himself being brazen enough to cause that chaos and then to face the consequences with such upright composure.

Daedalus only managed to chat with Hermione Granger in the brief time it took to walk from Arithmancy to the library. With OWL's getting ever closer both students were clearly focused on revising and performing well in their exams. She seemed distracted much of the time, and Daedalus guessed it may be concerns outside the realm of OWL work. What those concerns might be, he could only speculate.

April had long dissolved into May, and May quickly turned to June. It seemed odd to Daedalus how quickly time had passed since January. Back then he had been lacking in effort, feeling like his time at Hogwart's was pointless, and being rather blasé in general. Now, with exams only days away, he found himself oddly dedicated (or at least he found it odd to be so dedicated) to doing his best.

_(Author's note: I apologize for essentially skipping OWL's, but I'm never going to get around to rereading that part of OOTP for the sake of accuracy, and I really want to finish this chapter. Nothing important happens, but please forgive my skipping anyway.)_

Professor Vector called an end to the Arithmancy exam, much to Daedalus' relief. It was not that he felt he performed poorly, but because he had spent the last half hour second guessing every answer he had given. He was happy to be done so his mind could focus on something other than numbers and their odd intangible magical properties for a while. Upon leaving the Great Hall he received a tap on the shoulder, from none other than bushy haired classmate Hermione Granger.

'How did you find that?' she asked enthusiastically.

'It went quite well I think,' he replied. 'How do you think you did?'

'About the same really,' she said with a polite false modesty. 'I actually have to go meet my friends but I have a little gift for you.' She reached into her bag and removed a large red book with white lettering spelling the title _A Wizarding History of Canada_. 'I got it second hand, I hope you don't mind, and I read through it too. It is much more interesting than I thought it would be.

Daedalus blushed at her thoughtfulness, and was also deeply confused about something. 'How on earth do you find the time to revise for exams and read a book this size?' He had not meant to sound dumbfounded, but he did sound so.

'Too much free time I guess,' she grinned. Daedalus furrowed his eyebrows at the idea of where Hermione's free time came from.

'Thank you so much,' he said, 'but I don't have anything for you.'

'Don't worry about that, I wasn't expecting anything, although if you wanted to you could send me some maple syrup by owl once you get settled.' She fixed an amusingly sly grin to her face, looking mischievous, as though she had plotted for syrup all along.

'I'll do that,' he grinned, noting he must try some maple syrup to find out if it was worth such plotting. 'Well, good luck Hermione, if I don't see you on the train. Thanks for everything.'

Hermione replied in kind with the assurance that they could exchange letters from time to time, and that was it. Aside from a brief glance at her on platform nine and three-quarter's he would not see her again for a long time. Somehow he thought a parting should have more pomp and circumstance, yet in the end it seemed more like a fizzle. Which, he would come to realize, is the way things actually tend to go in life – rarely do events occur with as much grandeur as we expect, or want.

The rest of the summer term went much the same way, and in what seemed like no time he was playing exploding snap with Anthony Goldstein on his way home from his last year at Hogwart's. He felt oddly numb about the whole situation, as though it could not possibly happen and therefore should not have much thought put into it. And yet, as the train began to slow on its approach to London, all those feelings he suppressed began to creep slowly into his mind. Fortunately a distraction appeared in the form of a curtain fire caused by a larger than normal card explosion. Once the fire was out and the compartment had all shared a great laugh, that was it, the train was coming to a stop.

The Express ground to a halt at platform nine and three-quarters. This really was it; his knees trembled at the thought. He looked out the window to see families crowding the platform, waiting for the return of their children. The faces of those on the platform, usually full of loving anticipation, were now full of something more like loving concern. The confirmation that Voldemort had indeed returned sent shockwaves through the Wizarding world, and the parents standing on the platform were aching to hug their children again, as though it might be their last chance. Daedalus could not see his mother amongst the throng.

'Look at my mum,' said Anthony Goldstein, 'you'd think she thought I wasn't coming home.' There indeed, was stood a woman wearing fine dark robes, a ball of tissues crammed in her visibly shaking fist.

'At least your mum is here,' said Daedalus off-handedly.

'Where's yours?' asked Anthony.

'Who knows? She's probably flying off to Canada without me.' He had meant it to sound defamatory but instead found himself rather liking the idea, for reasons Michael Corner also observed, 'If she has done,' he said, 'then you can just come back to Hogwart's.'

'I somehow doubt I will be so lucky,' he said dryly as they gathered their belongings to disembark.

'Good luck,' and 'keep in touch', were phrases he heard as he left the train. There was not time for prolonged good byes as family members pushed their way toward their returned loved ones. Daedalus slowly attempted to weave his way around, getting bumped and jarred along the way until finally reaching the gate where he was promptly given the signal that it was safe to return to the muggle world.

Upon materializing between platforms nine and ten, wheeling his heavy trunk behind him a peculiar sensation began in his brain. At first he thought it was just that numb feeling returning but as he continued to walk it became something else. It was like a faucet dripping in his mind, splashing out memories as it landed. It dripped faster, and faster, until it became a torrent of resurfacing memories. The scenes from Dumbledore's office began to re-emerge in his mind. He felt as though he might faint with the rush of it. He remembered it all, and just as soon as it had started, it was over, and he felt compelled to reach for the letter in his knapsack. Dumbledore had made it invisible to him, but as he looked inside the bag there it was, a mystery that had been wiped from his mind for months. Anticipation welled up inside of him, but before he could open it a voice called to him from a distance and he slid the letter back into the knapsack.

'Daedalus!' called his mother. 'I'm so sorry I'm late, but I'm glad you're still here.' He hugged her in a rather absent minded way, though she seemed not to notice. 'Come on dear, let's get you home and you can tell me all about your year.' And with that she ushered him out of King's Cross station for the last time. The final thing he saw on his way out was Harry Potter and an odd looking mix of what could only be wizards meeting with a rather unpleasant looking trio of people.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Inside the Envelope

Daedalus stood at the railing and gazed, pointlessly he felt, at the ocean far below. He watched as the ocean made way for the hulking cruise ship, the waves crashing into the sides to be left to a foamy white obliteration. What his mother had dubbed as they boarded the ship in Plymouth as 'a great family voyage' had become, after only two days, the solo journey of a lanky teenage wizard with strange glasses across the Atlantic Ocean.

The trip had started out well enough, with the possible exception of Daedalus succumbing to seasickness almost immediately upon leaving port. Or perhaps the second day, when Daedalus (wearing black swim trunks which were a little north of the knee due to having grown about six inches since last wearing them; and also due to his mother's unwillingness to magically add length to them) looking dorky as it was, slipped on a puddle of water, tripped over a tanning chair, and stumbled backward into the pool creating a massive splash that someone ten times his size would have been proud of. The laughter that ensued was good-natured, so the young and old around the pool thought. The lifeguard however was far from amused, she assumed he had been running, in blatant disregard of pool rules, and banned him from the pool for three days. It had now been five days and he had yet to return to poolside. Romalda Indree had apparated the day after the pool incident citing 'work issues.' She had attempted to cheer him up about the incident, suggesting that he had done a marvelous job of bridging the generation gap of the ship's passengers through humor. Daedalus did not find this uplifting. It also didn't help his mood that she left hurriedly, leaving him to finish the rest of the journey alone. She promised to meet him in Boston where they were supposed to disembark. Daedalus wondered if she would actually manage to turn up.

With a luxury stateroom to himself Daedalus did little besides read and sleep. Without his mother around to force him to partake in onboard activities he only left the room to eat, and occasionally to use the treadmills in the fitness centre. He cut the treadmill out however, after a rather creepy couple struck up a conversation with him. While running intently on the treadmill, a man took the machine to his left, and a woman took the machine to his right. Both were too tanned for it to be natural or even decent Daedalus thought. Their hair was also too blonde to be natural or decent, and their matching workout clothes were too tight to protect their physical secrets. Daedalus was again wearing shorts that he had outgrown, which is perhaps what led to their joining him rather than taking any of the other ten available machines.

"Do you run often?" the woman asked him with what a curious accent.

Daedalus, who had been off in a daze and not wishing to be rude replied, "Huh, oh, no, not often."

"Well you've got the legs for it," she said, "they look like you've been training for years."

"Er … thanks," he managed. He noticed that her lips seemed oddly large and were basted with a sparkling pink lipstick.

"Wanda and I … I'm Mike by the way, Mike Corelli, we run every day at home in Albany." Daedalus could not think of a reply, so he focused on the incline that he was starting.

"Are you traveling alone?" asked Wanda.

"No … I mean yes, yes I am," replied Daedalus. His mother had told him that he should tell people he was alone if he was asked by anyone other than ship staff. It was an odd instruction but not out of character for her.

"Where is it you're heading all on your own?" asked Mike. Daedalus spotted Mike glancing at the time remaining on his run, there was still five minutes. Daedalus thought about telling them he only ran for fifteen minutes or feigning a cramp but thought that either excuse was not likely to get him away any faster. He wasn't sure why he was so uneasy, but he certainly was that.

"I'm going to Boston but my final destination is Montreal," Daedalus replied.

"What a beautiful city Montreal is," chimed Wanda, "have you been there before?"

"Yes, but I was too young to remember."

"Do you have family there?" Mike inquired.

"No, but my mother and I are moving there." Two minutes left, how long does five minutes take he wondered.

"Where is your mother?" they both asked.

"Oh she went ahead of me. This trip is my birthday present." This was the lie he had come up with, it seemed to make the most sense and because the other passengers were mostly wealthy muggles nobody would question such a lavish gift.

"Well that's a nice gift," Wanda commented, "but if I were your mother I would have come along to _take care of you_." A shuddering chill ran down his spine at the way she accented the last few words. Ten seconds left he cheered in his mind.

As the time ran out he stepped off the machine and drank deeply from his water bottle. ''Gonna hit the shower?" Mike asked him gesturing toward the changing room of the health club.

"Not here. Why would I go there when I have a shower in my room?"

Mike and Wanda laughed. "You've got me there," he said. "I just think public showers are more fun, much more room to move." Daedalus thought he might have vomited a little in his mouth.

"Yes, well, I like confined spaces me. So I'll be heading back to my room. Nice to meet you both," he lied smilingly.

"Same to you," said Mike. "We're in room 469 if you want company for meals or gym buddies." Wanda had paused her treadmill, taken off her jacket, and was waving him goodbye. She was wearing a pink top which barely contained any of her upper body, particularly not her breasts which looked as though they had been magically engorged. Again Daedalus thought he vomited a bit in his mouth. He returned to the stateroom and took a long shower in hopes of washing Mike and Wanda from his memory.

Avoiding Wanda and Mike had proved a difficult task. Daedalus kept odd hours for the remainder of the cruise and rarely left the cabin. It was not as though he had any reason to leave. He had yet to hear from his mother, had grown bored of wandering the ship alone, and he had little interest in partaking of the ship's entertainment on his own, particularly because he did not wish to encounter the Corelli's without some line of defense. So the cabin became his home for the final portion of the journey, which was spent mainly reading the two books he had kept with him, _A Pocket Guide to Defense_, and _A Wizarding History of Canada_. This latter work had occupied much of his time. Daedalus had never realized, or even thought, that Canada would have much of a history with wizards. In fact, Canada had a disproportionately high number of wizards, owing to the geography and sparsely populated muggles. It was a great country in which to hide away.

Canada had also constructed the second largest floo network in the world behind only Russia. There was a small history of his future school, Arc's Point, although no picture appeared. The coat of arms however did accompany the article on the school; it was a lighthouse with two wands crossed in front. As with most magical institutions the precise date of the school founding is unknown, though according to the book it was certainly within five years after the town was founded. The precise date of the founding of the village of Arc's Point was also unknown. Daedalus pondered why wizards apparently make poor historians before remembering what he had heard once about how the wizarding schools in particular enjoyed protecting their secrets.

Reading history has a way of either speeding or slowing the passage of time. If one is thoroughly engrossed, as Daedalus was, time passes in great leaps. So it was that on a foggy morning the Captain announced that the ship would be arriving in Boston in two hours. This is where he was to disembark. Daedalus was forced to assume his mother would be waiting for him on the wharf, or wherever they would land. After all, only she knew where they were going. He did imagine himself quite vividly standing and waiting on a boardwalk watching the ship leave while the remaining passengers pointed and laughed because he was alone. But Daedalus needn't have worried.

He decided to have a shower so that his mother could not berate him for a lack of cleanliness. He hadn't properly showered in two days due to how little he left the room. After taking an unnecessary amount of time basking in the glorious rain of the shower he turned off the faucets and dried himself. Carrying the towel at his side he left the head to put on his clothes. It took him a moment to notice someone was piling his clothes waiting for him to get out of the shower.

"Mum, bloody hell," he yelped covering his shame with the towel.

"Well honestly," began his mother, "did you think I wasn't going to turn up?"

"I figured you'd meet me on to wharf or something. You could have knocked while I was in the shower," Daedalus said rapidly. He was covered by the towel now but this was still more naked than he cared to be.

"I paid for this trip therefore I shall come and go as I please," she admonished.

"You certainly do a lot of _going_," snapped Daedalus.

His mother gave him a look which he thought would scorch his exposed skin. "Put your clothes on. I will return in ten minutes at which point we are going to apparate out of here. Do you understand?"

Before Daedalus could acknowledge that he did understand (or pretend that he did) his mother had stormed out of the room, to return promptly ten minutes later to inform him that she had sent their luggage (at least what was on the ship with them) on ahead. To where in Montreal she had still not told him. "Come on, come on, grab my arm," she demanded.

"Why aren't we disembarking before we apparate?" Daedalus asked.

"Because," replied his mother in a tone which plainly said she thought he was being ignorant, "then we would be forced to find a private place from which to disappear. If we leave from here nobody will know the difference. Now, take my arm, side-along apparition, we're off to Montreal."

"Mon-," began Daedalus before he was forced to turn instinctively on the spot, apparating to another location, body stretched and pressed until finally air filled his lungs again, "-treal," he finished. He took one quick glance to the side and leaped back, they were at least twenty-five stories above the ground, and he could see the skyline of tall buildings stretching out under a rather dreary sky. It took another moment to realize they were standing on a balcony.

"You couldn't have told me?" he said shaking slightly.

"Welcome to your new home," was all she said as she opened a door with an ornate pane of glass. She stepped over the threshold without a glance back. Daedalus attempted to take in the view again, but decided he very much wanted to get inside.

He stepped into the sitting room; a long room featuring parquet floors which had already been decorated with much of the furnishing from Plymouth. "It isn't much," said his mother from somewhere, "but I didn't think it worthwhile to get a full home at this stage. So for now we are in this three bedroom muggle _condominium_ as they call them. Of course I have taken the liberty of placing charms around, the same security charms we had at home, please keep that in mind. Your bedroom has its own loo, and I decided not to put any portraits in there." She laughed at this small joke. Daedalus merely crossed his arms and blushed. "I have more work to do but I'm not sure when I will get around to it. I think we are good to be getting on with. Are you all right?" she asked, noticing Daedalus was now biting his lip and his eyes were rolled up in his head. But he wasn't in pain, he was remembering something.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. But I think I want to have a lie down. That landing on the balcony rattled me I'm sorry to say."

"Understandable," said his mother, though he thought he caught a tone of suspicion. "I need to travel to my school for a couple of days. There is some muggle money here for you," she pointed to a bag on top of the green silk ottoman. "Will you be all right if I leave now?"

"Oh yes mum, don't worry I'll get along. I'm sorry for how I was acting. I'm just glad we're finally here."

She seemed to eye him suspiciously again before saying, "As am I son, as am I." His mother kissed him on the check and stepped back out onto the balcony. His mother informed him that it was impossible to apparate in and out of the condo. He looked out to the empty balcony; she had spun and disappeared with a soft whip crack sound. He needed to be sure she was gone though he didn't know why. The letter from somebody, the one Dumbledore had given to him, he must open it. He had to; it had almost taken him like a fever, though he realized it might be a spell. He carried his book bag to his bedroom, taking no notice of the decorations. The only portrait in his room was currently empty. Why was he so sure he must not let anyone see? The envelope felt thick as ever, as though cardboard was inside, or numerous sheets of parchment folded over and over. Taking another glance at the writing on the envelope, he wonder briefly who if was from, but he had waited so long. He tore the envelope open to discover there was indeed cardboard inside, two pieces, clearly securing something in between. Separating the cardboard carefully he looked at the item, blankly at first. It was a photo. What was the big deal, Daedalus wondered. It was just a photograph … but a moving photograph … a wizard photograph … in front of a statue of a bearded wizard reaching for the heavens … a young man, maybe seventeen wearing black robes with a crest depicting a lighthouse with two wands crossed … he looked so familiar … he looked so alive as he gestured a wand around, beaming while holding an apparition certificate … the name on the certificate was legible … Frederick Indree it read … people who were clearly witches and wizards bustled in the background.

Daedalus was certain time had stopped. He had no idea how long he had stood there, his back to the portrait should it return, protecting the photo from view. This was an impossible photo; he knew it was impossible. His father was a muggle; this was merely a coincidence or a cruel joke. His dad was not a wizard was never a wizard, he would know, his mother would have told him his dad would have told him. Again, he was certain of this. Fingers trembling slightly, he attempted to laugh to himself at this poor idea of humor. He turned the photo over expecting a signature or an explanation of the joke. Instead, in cramped hand-writing was the message:

_This is the truth._

Slowly, and very carefully as he continued his tremors, Daedalus repackaged the photo and buried it into the hidden pocket of his backpack. A numbness swept him that he thought to relieve with sleep, but sleep did not come, despite his feeling that he was sure to be dreaming. None of his waking dreams however brought him any closer to answering the two main questions on his mind: who sent him this photograph, and is this image of his father as a wizard accurate? He pondered these two questions for hours, but he got nowhere near answers, simply more questions. When sleep did finally arrive it was greeted with bizarre dreams of buildings he had never seen and a version of his father he was sure never existed.


	8. Chapter 8

(_Author's note: this took long enough to get out don't you think? I cannot claim this is the best thing ever written, far from it. For the most part I think it is rather dull and I will have to spruce it up later. I used time I don't really have to write it so there is no time to borrow for editing. I reread my other chapters and found so much I would like to fix up but that will have to wait as well. This is the last chapter before Daedalus heads off to his new school and it may read a little like filler. In some ways it is but there are things that needed to happen and to be mentioned and so they end up in here. Hopefully I haven't talked anyone out of reading by this point. I read some writing I had done for later in the story as well and discovered that most of those pieces I wrote two years ago. I didn't realize it had been that long ago. But I suppose it's a testament to the amount of time I have been putting in to schooling. Soon I will be able to return to this with new verve, I hope anyway. Right now I'm feeling about as crummy as I did way back when I wrote the first chapter. But change is on the horizon, distantly for me, but rather close for Daedalus. Even though the Harry Potter books are overwith now I still want to get this whole story down, if for no other reason than to say I finished it. Plus book 7 gave me some unexpected ways to weave the stories back together. Please enjoy and comment if you will, I know there is a lot I can improve here but I wanted to move on to the next chapter and I will come back to this when time permits.)_

Chapter 8: Cheers and Traces

Early the next morning he sat on the balcony looking over the Montreal skyline. There was a fog hanging over the city though stray beams of sunlight reflected off the windows of the taller buildings. He was trying to figure out what to think or, perhaps, to focus on one thought to think. His brain would not be quiet, it could not be; there was a constant shrieking of hypothetical scenarios, imagined scenes, non-sensical fantasies. He could think of no way to silence his brain, so Daedalus' first order of business became distracting his brain. First he acquainted himself with his new home. A long, wide hall, which is mother had already lined with portraits stretched from the entrance. There were two sliding-door closets on the left and three doors on the right: one was the spare bedroom, one was a powder room, and the other was Daedalus' bedroom. Upon turning left at the end of the hall, and next to Daedalus' room, was the door to his mother's bedroom. Straight ahead from here was the kitchen which currently was walled in but his mother suggested she may take the wall out to open up the space more. You could walk through the kitchen to the living room or take a right and walk into that large open space. Aside from arranging the furniture and putting up portraits no other decorating had been done. The kitchen, he felt, was destined for a massive overhaul especially. Daedalus did not care much for decorating, but even he knew tacky when he saw it.

He wandered around the flat trying to summon random items by magic. As his mother had informed him, Daedalus would be able to use magic until they had the chance to get to the Ministry of Magic in Montreal so that his trace charm could be reapplied. Though it was great to be able to use magic, for some reason many of his spells did not work. He could summon nothing at all until, that is, he said lazily, "Accio knives," only to have to yell "finite" to prevent all the knives in the kitchen from impaling him. When non-working spells began to fail as distractions Daedalus set out to explore the neighborhood.

Daedalus was happy to discover that there were plenty of restaurants and shops in his new neighborhood though he felt quite outside of it all as most of the people around were speaking French. He would have to remember to ask Etienne for some lessons, he decided. Daedalus did discover that people were quite friendly to him when they heard him speak and realized he was not from the area, or even the English part of the country. He picked up some new clothes in the muggle second-hand shops, and looked for a good place for tea. His search for good tea proved unsuccessful.

On the third day after his arrival he decided he would take the underground somewhere, or the _metro_, as it was called here. Daedalus had asked the server at the last café he was in for advice on where to go. The server, whose nametag read Julie, had blonde dreadlocks that reached her shoulder and a ring through her nose. She seemed quite fond of his all-covers. In fact, one of the odd things he found was that the people he met seemed to find his eye-ware more interesting than ugly. It made for a nice change. Julie recommended Daedalus get off at a stop called Place des Arts and browse around. When Daedalus first saw the metro pull into the station he had a sense of déjà vu. The trains were blue and had white stripes down the side, they looked familiar, but he could not figure out how he could have seen one before. He took Julie's recommendation and he spent a day browsing galleries and other sites around Place des Arts. It felt good to get out and walk around though his trainers were not in the best shape for that much walking. His feet ached when I got home and he soaked them in the tub for relief. A few of the elder portraits made suggestions like adding filleted leeches to the water. Daedalus figured the water would do.

But Daedalus was not all that interested in muggle Montreal, what he really wanted was to see the magical community here. But he could not do that until his mother returned because he had no idea where the magical community even was.

Having had enough exploring for the time being Daedalus holed-up in the condominium. It was always very quiet inside and he never saw anyone else on his floor. He found out from one of the doormen that it was because they had no neighbors. The other people who lived on the same floor had sold their condos around the same time but apparently nobody ever moved in. Daedalus suspected magic to be at work.

When his mother returned five days after their arrival she discovered that Daedalus had been casting cheering charms on himself. For Daedalus, when he discovered he could execute the spell, the charm had proven a powerful mood-adjuster. Unfortunately for every time it wore off it seemed to need a stronger casting to be as effective and so it was that he had a bit of an over-dose. Romalda Indree walked into the living from the balcony to find her son lying on the sofa with his shirt unbuttoned, glasses askew, listening to a French wizarding wireless program, with an empty bag of chips next to him.

"Mum," he said exuberantly.

"What is going on here?" she asked him, noting that the room was far from clean.

"Mum, clouds are fluffy don't you think?"

His mother simply stared blankly.

"I mean, they're fluffy, you know, like kittens or something like that. Kittens flying through the air, fab idea."

"Daedalus," she said in a voice of mingled concern and amusement, "what is the matter with you?"

"Nothing is the matter. I've just been charming my cheers … I mean, cheering my … no, wait … cheering myself up with charms."

"What do you need cheering for?"

"I don't remember," he replied, and he honestly didn't remember at that moment.

"No? I think you may have overdone it."

"Don't be daft, I know what I'm doing," he said getting to his feet, "I'm a good wizard and I'm allowed to char myself up."

"Cheer you mean?"

"That's what I said. Anytime I want, I can cheer myself up but I don't know why I need to when the clouds are so fluffy."

"Well enjoy it," said his mother now smiling, "because we are going to the Ministry tomorrow and after that there will be no magic for you until you're back in school."

"Hey Mum," he began with a dopey smile on his face, "Stephen arrived and he brought a copy of The Daily Prophet. It said that Madam Bones was killed, isn't that wild? I met her. I liked her. Why are you spinning Mum?"

Romalda Indree quickly caught her son who passed out from over-cheering. She lay him back down on the sofa and took the Prophet in her hand. He would not witness her shedding tears for Amelia Bones.

The next morning Daedalus woke in a fog; a fog which lifted almost immediately upon drinking his potion regimen. His mother had left a pre-made supply while she was away but, though they tasted awful when brewed fresh, it is nothing to how they taste if left for a few days. With no fog in his mind he was able to create a sense of intrigue surrounding his trip to the Canadian Ministry of Magic. Before he had his shower his mother told him that they would leave promptly after breakfast. Breakfast it turned out was a time for his mother to discuss what she had come home to.

"Daedalus I don't think you understand," she said as Daedalus pondered his oatmeal, "people get addicted to mood charms. You should never cast one on yourself. And you especially should never cast one on yourself, considering your condition."

"I know," Daedalus sighed, looking down at his breakfast, wishing he could cheer himself up.

"You know now you mean. If you knew before you would never have done it. And I don't understand why you were doing it in the first place. You say you don't remember but there must be a reason. Well at any rate in a few hours you'll be restricted from doing it again."

A few minutes went with only the subtle noises of spoons traveling from bowl to mouth and the sip of coffee until Daedalus remembered something that had been on his mind a few days back. "Mum, why don't we have any neighbors?"

"What do you mean?" she replied.

"There are five other units on this floor but nobody lives in them."

"Really?" she replied. "Two of them were occupied when I bought this place. But it is a fairly new building; I imagine there is a transient clientele. Perhaps the other units are rentals."

"If they were rentals why would they be empty?"

"I can honestly say I don't know," she said while checking her watch, "the real estate concerns of muggles are of no consequence to us."

"Yeah, I know, I was just wondering if you kept people out by magic."

Where Daedalus was expecting his mother to react with anger she actually reacted with surprise. "Did you think I had?" she asked him.

"I just wondered."

"You and your wondering again. It has yet to be a week since our arrival I'm sure we'll be seeing neighbors soon enough. There are other unoccupied units in the building so I imagine it is only a coincidence." For some reason Daedalus thought she was unsure about this statement but he was left to ponder as she informed him that they had better get moving.

They traveled via side-along apparition to a generic looking part of town. It was certainly no place Daedalus had visited as of yet and the tall buildings seemed slightly distant, though quite visible. Together they walked a block until his mother stopped in front of an old mansion home. She stared at it in a rather puzzled way. "That's not right," she muttered under her breath. Had it not been for a number of people who were obviously wizards (obviously wizards to other wizards rather) walking into a closed theatre across the street they may have had to abandon the days plan. Daedalus noted that there seemed to be few muggles out and about and that many of the buildings were run-down or abandoned. The theatre certainly looked like it was both. The wizards they had seen enter the building had simply walked through the locked doors, much as one does when visiting St. Mungo's in London. Upon passing through the doors they were greeted by a large, open reception area which had statues along the back wall. Daedalus tried to get a good look at them but his mother tugged him along to a round desk in the middle of the room. Daedalus noticed that the other witches and wizards he and his mother had seen enter had clearly moved on. But there were two wizards in black robes standing against the wall on either side. They looked to Daedalus like security guards. The witch tending the desk was young, no more than five years Daedalus' senior he thought, and wore robes of light yellow which complimented her dark hair and complexion. Her pink lipstick clashed horribly.

"Welcome to ze Ministry of Mageek," she greeted them warmly in French accent, "'ow may I deerect you."

"Hello. My name is Romalda Indree and this is my son Daedalus. We are here to see a Mr. Unius Ludgate."

"Department of Magical Law Enforcement," the reception witch nodded. The wall to the right slid open to reveal a lift. She handed them each a badge with their names and their visitor status on them. "This will take you to level two. There ees a security desk there which will check your wands and zen you may proceed to ze department down ze 'all."

When the lift doors opened on the second level there was nothing to be seen but the security desk. The room, though perhaps the same size as the one above, seemed so much smaller as it was not nearly as well lit, nor did it have the high ceiling or statues or decoration of any kind. Daedalus remembered the grandeur of the Ministry in London and was beginning to be let down a little. But then again, the guest entrance in London was a telephone booth. After the security wizard had verified both of their wands he pointed them down a bland hallway and told them to take the third hall on the right (also bland), and then the third door on the left which was Mr. Ludgate's office. Arriving at the office Romalda Indree knocked three times on the door and they were called in.

Daedalus immediately wished he were wearing his shaded all-covers. The contrast of the drab hallway to Mr. Ludgate's office was almost unbearable. Once his eyes had overcome the shock Daedalus noticed that there was a massive window which provided a bright and seemingly real view of the downtown skyline. The room itself was a large square with packed book shelves on either side and a large oak desk with some odd instruments on it in the middle.

"Mrs. Indree, is it? And your son Daedalus?" He greeted them with open arms and a hand-shake apiece and gestured for them to have a seat at two comfortable looking leather chairs he had just created. He was a tall and powerful looking man with orange hair flecked with grey and a warm smile. Daedalus figured he must be around his mother's age though it was hard to tell as both his mother and this man had aged well. His robes were navy blue and carried an emblem which Daedalus could not make out. "This is a fairly simple procedure as I am sure you are both aware, I just have a few papers for you to look over and sign, then I will cast the trace and you can be on your way." He flicked his wand and a few sheets of paper landed in front of each of them. "Please fill these out in full and sign at the end" he instructed, manifesting some quills and ink for them to use.

"Please forgive me but I am required to confirm this. It says on your immigration papers that Daedalus suffered eye injuries as the result of a poorly performed conjunctivitis curse?"

"Yes," said Romalda Indree, "but he can see fine with the magical lenses of the all-covers."

"Oh yes, I'm sure he can. Would you please remove them for me?"

"Why?" inquired Daedalus.

"It is our procedure. Not a law I think is relevant anymore but it's in our books. Any uncommon magical equipment must be inspected by a member of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It's an old rule dating back to when magic rings and dentures were a craze. But if you please."

Daedalus removed his all-covers and handed them to Mr. Ludgate. His mother, being ever prepared, had made him some lenses to disguise his eyes and had used a combination of magic and makeup to create the illusion of scarring around his eyes. Mr. Ludgate scanned the all-covers with his wand then handed them back. "That's all in order."

"How have you been enjoying Canada so far?"

Daedalus thought Mr. Ludgate had really been asking him but his mother replied first. "I have spent most of my time at work so far, I have had little time to get acquainted with the city."

"Oh yes. You are working at Mattridale, yes? How do you find that?"

"It is certainly an adjustment from what I have been doing. That is why I will be spending time there over the summer, to learn my role and the school's practices. Did you attend the academy Mr. Ludgate?"

"No but a cousin of mine did. She's a little strange. Which I'm sure has nothing to do with your school," he added quickly. "I went to Arc's Point myself. Which school will you be attending?

"Oh." Daedalus started as he had been trying to read the titles of books. He had tuned out their conversation because it had seemed bland. "Arc's Point sir."

"You will be starting your sixth year?"

"Yes sir."

Mr. Ludgate picked up a picture frame and turned it around for them to see. "These are my two eldest", he informed them. It was a boy and a girl in a black and white photo smiling happily in front of a statue of a wizard pointing toward the sky. Daedalus took no notice of the kids but focused immediately on the statue, that statue; he had his own photograph of it. "Brevin and Bryonny. They're twins and they're a handful. They're in their sixth years as well; perhaps you'll get to meet them." He returned the photo to its normal place on the desk. "Okay, if you'll stand up Daedalus we can take care of this." Daedalus did as he was asked and Mr. Ludgate waved his wand and performed the incantation. Daedalus did not hear it. His mind was fixed on the statue. He decided he should chance it and ask.

"Mr. Ludgate, where was that picture taken?" he asked as non-chalantly as possible. Daedalus glanced at his mother but she seemed to be rereading the paperwork.

"That is the village of Arc's Point, very near to the school. That wizard pointing to the stars is Abrasax Arcand the founder of the school and the village."

"Right," said Daedalus vaguely, "I had heard that."

"Well," said his mother putting the papers on the desk, "if that is all I think we had better be going. We have plenty of work to do on our new home yet."

"I wish you the best of luck with that," said Mr. Ludgate, "and I hope you enjoy it here. And Daedalus I hope you enjoy your new school."

"So do I, sir, so do I."

July seemed to drag on forever. His mother was gone much of the time and Daedalus had only himself and the portraits for company. The significant distance made sending letters overseas a lengthy process and thus far he had only received one letter from Etienne who was vacationing in Italy. Now that he could no longer perform magic the time moved even more slowly. If he only had a friend or two, he thought, it might help pass the time. He began to wonder when he might receive word from his new school or receive his OWL results. Daedalus felt he had performed adequately in his examinations but too much time on one's hands tends to create anxiety. So it was that when his grades did finally arrive he was very nervous to see what they might be. He managed to delay a day in opening the envelope because he was too nervous. Though the tactic only increased his anxiety when he woke the next morning after constantly dreaming of failure and a life of mopping up bodily fluids without magic in St. Mungo's. But Daedalus need not have worried about his grades. The increase in effort he had put in the latter part of the year had certainly paid off.

ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS

Pass Grades: Outstanding (O) Fail Grades: Poor (P)

Exceeds Expectations (E) Dreadful (D)

Acceptable (A) Troll (T)

DAEDALUS JAMISON INDREE HAS ACHIEVED:

Arithmancy: E

Astronomy: E

Care of Magical Creatures: E

Charms: E

Defense Against the Dark Arts: E

Herbology: O

History of Magic: A

Muggle Studies: A

Potions: O

Transfiguration: E

Daedalus had consciously put the least amount of effort into History of Magic and Muggle studies because he knew he did not want to continue with them. He admitted to himself that he had hoped to gain an 'O' in Charms but it was made up for by the unexpected 'O' in Herbology. Overall he had to proclaim himself satisfied. His mother, who appeared that evening only to leave the next day, was also quite pleased.

"I think I'll buy you a gift. I'm going to pick up your things for school some time this week so I will bring it all back here."

"How do you know what I will need for school?" Daedalus asked.

"Your letter from Arc's Point arrived the other day. I was here briefly in the morning but I did not wish to wake you. So I have the supply list and I will purchase everything for you. It came with a letter from the headmistress." Daedalus' face contorted minutely. His mother read his expression, "I didn't open that one. I suspect she wants to provide you with a little bit of information about the school so that you don't arrive completely ignorant. Like I sometimes feel at my school."

"I find it hard to believe you could ever be ignorant, mum."

"Even the best of us are more than capable of ignorance Daedalus, especially in unfamiliar surroundings."

"So I won't get to see Montreal's equivalent of Diagon Alley?"

"No, I'm afraid not. I don't think that there is anything the size of Diagon Alley here. I know there are some shops in Montreal but as you might have read in your book; there are lots of small villages along the floo network so there is no real centre of commerce. Anything I can't pick up I'm sure you will be able to find in Arc's Point once you are at school. I'm afraid that I have a lot to learn and must spend my time away."

Daedalus informed his mother that he understood and he spent the rest of the day visiting his muggle hangouts, realizing that he had a few more weeks of isolation from the wizarding community. That night before bed he opened the letter he had received from Headmistress Lavada Madrigal of Arc's Point School.

_Dear Daedalus,_

_I wish to be the first to thank you for selecting Arc's Point as your choice for your continuing magical education. We are excited to have you at our school as your previous Headmaster speaks highly of you. Although you are a sixth year student, in many ways this will be like your first year. Becoming acquainted with a new school is not likely to be easy, I have been to Hogwart's and our facilities are somewhat similar, but my staff and I shall endeavor to aid your transition in any way we can._

_In that vain I am writing you to give you a little knowledge of what to expect upon arrival at the school. A train will leave from Montreal on August 31__st__ and will bring you to the school. This train travels at muggle speed and it is an overnight journey. The ticket you received will have a car and compartment number on it. It will arrive in Arc's Point late in the afternoon of September 1__st__. You will then be required to join the first years. The Professor gathering the new students will be expecting you. We have four school houses at Arc's Point just as Hogwart's does. They are: Whale, Eagle, Beaver, and Snake. Why the houses are named so is something you may find by reading information on the school's founder. _

_It will be necessary to sort you into a house and this is why you must join the first year students. I regret that this will surely draw some attention to you but there is no way for us, given how our sorting process works, to sort you separately and privately. Our process for sorting only activates once a year at a given time. I would explain more but it is not wise for a Headmistress to disseminate all her school's secrets in such an insecure medium._

_The compartment on the train will be shared and I am sure that other students will be happy to discuss anything you may wish to know. Provided you can tell them what you know of Hogwart's as well as I feel certain many will ask you about your time there. Your potion regimen will be prepared by our potions teacher, Professor Gregorius Guildar. I will provide you with more information on that when you arrive. I look forward to meeting you on September 1__st__._

_Sincerely,_

_Lavada Madrigal_

The month of August, in contrast to July, had been flying by. With only a week left until the train to school Daedalus began to organize his things. His mother had brought home with her the books he needed, potion supplies, quills, paper, and, true to her word about a gift; a broomstick. Daedalus had never had his own broomstick and it was all he could do to keep himself from hopping off the balcony with it after dark. A Nimbus 2001 it was, and Daedalus' mind livened to the idea of trying out for Quidditch. Assuming his school had Quidditch teams of course. He had never really played but he had always wanted to, there was just never anyone around to play with growing up. He thanked his mother over and over and hugged her tight and spun around in a circle with her. She seemed quite pleased at his satisfaction.

On the morning of August 30th Daedalus' mother had left the breakfast table hastily after receiving a letter. She did not tell him what it said only that it had to do with her school. She would still be seeing him off the next day as she was not required to be at Mattridale until September 2nd, their first day of classes. Her hasty departure meant a change in the day's plans. His mother had promised that today they would visit the old city together. He had been on his own but had thought it might be nice to visit along with his mother. She had barely seen any of the city after all. But as she was called away Daedalus was forced to come up with ideas on how to spend the day. He decided to head to old Montreal anyway and so he dressed as a muggle and a few hours after his mother had left he headed to the nearest metro stop. For some reason, the whim of a teenager perhaps, Daedalus decided that he would go to a stop he had never visited rather than the old city. He switched metro lines at one of the juncture stations and headed in a different direction, getting off at a small station outside of any area he had visited so far. He departed the train and nothing seemed out of the ordinary, other that the large and pungent man who pushed passed him as he stepped onto the platform.

As the train pulled away something dawned on him. Something he could not believe he had not realized before. The blue trains with the white strip down the side, the metro trains; he knew where he had seen them before. It had been a dream. And not a pleasant dream, masked figures had poured out of the doors and surrounded him. It had been a nightmare. But that could not happen here, surely. Or could it? Daedalus' mind was beseeched by two equally strong temptations: one was to run, the other to await the next train. The temptations seemed to cancel each other and he remained standing on the spot. He did move however when a strange figure came down the tiled stairs onto the platform. The figure was not so much strange as it was unexpected; a young man, dressed in wizard robes of black had walked onto the platform. Some muggles followed him down and although they looked curiously at him they continued further down the platform. This young man walked slowly and purposefully to the middle of the platform and stopped. Daedalus looked at the young man's face, it was expressionless, it was blank, and it made Daedalus uneasy. Faces are not normally so blank, he felt something was wrong.

Daedalus approached the young man, taking in his features: the olive skin, the short but wavy dark hair, but without expression there was no means of discerning a demeanor. The young man stood perfectly still but would occasionally glance slowly in the direction the train would arrive. Now that he was close to him Daedalus could see that the young man carried a wand in his right hand. This only served to fuel his suspicion. Daedalus walked up next to the man and said, "Hello." No reply came.

"Nice day today," said Daedalus. Again there was no reply. There was a noise down the tunnel, the train must be approaching. The noise perpetrated another glance from the young man and he took a step forward, startling Daedalus. The young man's gaze was now fixed on the end of the platform where the train would emerge. Daedalus stood directly in front of the man and again attempted to greet him. Again he received no response. A wizard does not just come out into the open, robes, wand and all, Daedalus reasoned, something is wrong. He did not want to, he did not know why he thought to do it, but he stood directly in front of the man, looked directly into his brown eyes and pulled his all-covers down his nose.

Daedalus had been expecting a flood of memories but none came, there seemed to be static, or fog, nothing of this young man's mind. But then Daedalus could hear something, a whisper almost, repeating the same words, instructions perhaps, Daedalus could barely make it out but as he heard the train near the words came clearly, 'jump in front of the metro.' Daedalus broke his gaze, the man remained still. He had noticed nothing. A glance around the platform told Daedalus that nobody else had noticed anything either. But the train was coming closer and it would be here any moment. The man took another meaningful step toward the edge of the platform. Without thinking Daedalus took the man's right hand and the wand within, pointed the wand at its owner and said 'finite incantatem.' The jerking away of the man's hand told Daedalus he had been successful, the metro breezed into the station and Daedalus released his grip on the man's robes, which he had taken in case the spell did not work.

"Sir …," Daedalus attempted to say but the young man's face was now far from expressionless. It was at once confused and horribly angry. "How did I get here?" he muttered to himself. He gazed with wide eyes at the train as it opened its doors as if he realized what might have happened, then he took notice of Daedalus and his face bore an expression Daedalus could not read. Whatever it meant was beyond his comprehension, the young man turned on the spot and ran. Daedalus, having been unprepared for this, was not quick to react. He followed quick as he could but by the time he had reached the street outside the young man had gone and Daedalus had been left to wonder who he was and who had attempted to make him jump in front of a train. For he was quite sure that the man was under the Imperius curse; someone had placed it on that young man. Someone had wanted him to kill himself. The incident shook Daedalus to the core. Perhaps he did not want to know about the magical community in Montreal after all. Having lost any interest in exploring he returned home to finish packing for the next day and to await his mother so he could inform her of what had happened but he fell asleep before she arrived home that evening. His nightmares were replete with images of shadowed figures pushing wizards in front of trains.


End file.
